September 23, 2010


During my morning meditation, my thoughts turned to my Mother. I do not profess to have been a good son, but quite the opposite. As a young man I was very difficult and struggled with dyslexia and significant learning disabilities. As I moved into high school I found drugs, alcohol, and girls to fill the void and mask the feelings I did not know how to or want to deal with. Later in my early adulthood my mother contracted Alzheimer's and slowly began to slip away. By the time I had learned how to express how I was feeling and started to deal with the feelings of hopelessness I had felt for the first thirty years of my desperate life, my sweet mother had slipped into the depths of her illness. My ability to tell her all the things I wanted to say for all those years was gone. I had smothered all my feelings and covered them with anger and hate. I pushed her away with words and shut her out of my painful life. The night before we took her off life support I stayed with her at the hospital, I pulled the reclining chair next to her bed and held her hand through the night. As I cried to myself I whispered to her, "Please forgive me, please forgive me." I miss my mother, the sweet sound of her voice, the soft hand that would caress my face, the time she took to listen to my day. As I had my morning Meditation my thoughts turned to my mother, they often do.

Dean N Nixon
Seminar Director, Life Coach

TurningLeaf Wellness Center