Holding grudges ..

Last night Aunt Jennie and I was chatting about something then she said out of blue..
“.. come to think, actually my Mom never really taught me anything, as what’s appropriated and what’s not because I left home so early … I was only 14 years old..”

I’ve never heard her talking about her Mom this way. Actually we never talked about any emotional things, like feelings. My heart soften immediately, especial knowing how her children treat her. How she treat me in the past seemed so inconsequential. I felt a sharp knot in my stomach: were we both cut from the same cloth – growing up without a mom? It seemed to erase all the grudges I held against her. She isn’t a huge figure that shadowed over me any more, rather a helpless or clueless Mom who would give up everything to have the love she craved from her two kids.

I really wanted to give her a hug, a genuine and big hearty hug, telling her I care about her. ..
Forgive is perhaps more important than give. … I did not hug her. Could not do it.


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