I had no reservations about revealing my past before that moment in class yesterday. Perhaps it was hearing words I’d never written before…I’d never even thought of before sent me to a place I hadn’t visited either. I remembered.
I revealed my disconnection with self…why I was drawn to being “needed” by others…why it was so easy for me to allow people to drain me without much protest. The silence between my mother’s rants taught me to embrace my own version of peace. The peace in my head…I shut out the world when I couldn’t flee literally. Now I see how I could be present, but still not there.
I needed someone to listen to me then, but I didn’t know what to say when I actually received it.
Now I know why God had allowed me to meet a the young lady in Walmart the other day. She’d just lost her husband and her words, “I just loss my husband and it’s been hard,” broke my heart.
I offered to pray for her before she revealed the reason she appeared so torn between working and giving up. I offered to wait, but I ended up just writing my phone number and a my disclaimer: “I’m not expert on grief, but if you need an ear to listen…”
I left there with a concern, but content that in a small way I’d lived up to my name.
I entered my first class yesterday morning and noticed my friend was absent. My professor revealed the reason was that she too had experienced loss. Her mother passed the night before. Immediately, I took out my phone to send a message.
I composed and erased.
I tapped and before sending placed the phone in my purse instead.
I said to myself I would wait until break. At break I erased again and thought about calling her, but I considered I didn’t want that before.
So I was honest.
After typing “I don’t know what to say. If you need an ear to listen call anytime. Love you,” I hit send.
I needed someone to listen to me when my mother passed, but I didn’t know what to say. So before God’s ear alone was the chosen receptacle.
Perhaps, allowing me to tell my story aloud was the first time I really felt heard by people. Maybe that was the reason for my tears.
Regardless, if nothing else, in that moment I realized my frailty. Though I forgave her nearly two years ago, became whole mere months ago, I still have places in my heart to be mended. She loved me the best she could. I’m learning to love a little better with each passing day and I know I have a ways to go, but it’s still nice to have an ear to listen.
©2016 Nadia Davis. All rights Reserved.
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