As my mother lay dying, I knelt by her bed and said, "I love you Mom." I heard a whisper back, "I love you." I was shocked at the power of my imagination. My mother was full of morphine, there was no way she heard me, much less responded.
A little while later my sister was in with Mom and I realized they were talking. It wasn't just want or will or imagination. My mother had responded to me. What a blessing.
Now, fourteen years later, I think about that moment and how easy it was to think Mom hadn't really said anything. And I realize how I do that in life.
How easy it is for me to accept the negative words that are hurled at me, while dismissing the positive words are impossible.
That day my heart was listening better than my mind, perhaps it's time to not take the negative words to heart, but to listen to the words that make my heart sing.
I love you Mom. Thanks for the message, I hear you.
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