To The Moma That Met Jesus Today 

I wrote about you earlier on this little blog I have. I wrote about how I understood you better than you thought. But maybe you knew and you felt the same way. 

I’ve reached out to your son today. He’s got a huge heart. I don’t know your daughter as well, but she is beautiful. 

I’m sorry we weren’t closer, or never pushed past the aquaintance level. But I thought about you often. Did you still drink? Did you wish you could stop? Did you hate yourself everyday? Or maybe you were happy. For some reason, I don’t think that was the case. Not with that look in your eyes. 

Maybe it was just the resignation of who you were. Maybe it was easier to just turn off all emotions from day to day.

I heard after you got sick, you quit drinking. Maybe you had hope that it wasn’t too late. I heard your family took out the boat a few times  and you joined them. I hope you had a blast.

I know you probably thought time was on your side. One day you would quit drinking, one day this hell on earth would end. But I’m sure it was a punch in the gut when you received your diagnosis.

I’m so sorry this has happened today. I’ve grieved for you and for your kids. Your passing will stick with me and I’ll never forget you. I sincerely mean that. 

Your son told my daughter you knew Jesus, so I’m positive you are at peace at this moment. But I wonder if you were angry. Angry to leave your husband. Angry you wouldn’t see your children get married. Or possibly just sad. Sad that you couldn’t change any of  it. 

I know alcoholism. I know that darkness and the loneliness. I know the shame…. it’s such a huge burden to bear. 

But I also know you are home now. I know you are at peace and no longer fighting that battle, or fighting for your life. 

I just wished you’d known there wws a family that thought about you. A family that never judged. A family that was pulling for you. And a girl that always thought she’d have time to connect and reach out. 

Rest in peace JS. I’ll see you when I come home. 

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