A Mother’s Grief by Jone Thurmond

Jone Thurmond

A Mother’s Grief

My dear children:

Never in my wildest thoughts would I have guessed that your brash, incredible injustice would cut so deeply a wound in my soul. Your actions against your own flesh and blood are more than any mother should want to bear. And here it is, that I must suffer and know the true meaning of your selfish actions. The injustice you bestow on others to justify your greed is beyond comprehension and your insensitivity toward others is evident by your total lack of compassion.

You each believe that you, and only you, have solutions to problems, that your actions will bring about your wanted results. It is not so. A selfish mind brings sadness that captures every movement. Malicious actions do hound forever and ever, as memories do not fade easily. So, if your capability for thinking were clear and bright, a twisted knot would never tighten around your mind. You demonstrate to me, your mother, that I am of little worth or respect, and that your madness will kill me. Well, I am not dead yet. You clamor to make my legacy a farce. I know that each of you believe that only you are right because it seems to works for you. Well, all lives are different, and no one should judge the actions of others, especially when their own actions are not worth substance.

It is with such grief that I find inner strength to write my feelings. You all are spoiled on my account and I find it greatly sad. To place a burden in my heart, that I am no longer viable or respected, is truly a tale of contempt. Within your heart and soul the deeds you perform herein show that character and love are not within your being.

I will not permit a child of mine to be deprived of livelihood. The unscrupulous intention to control and manage a life that is not your own is malicious and full of hypocrisy. Living a life as an insensitive person has many flaws, as only you can know. Do not judge; it takes skills that none of our family possess.

There is a future apart from your selfish souls, if only you could care and share. Behaviors are mirrored in your actions. They cannot be hidden. I will not pity careless actions that are destined to harm and hurt, and I will not condone your self-righteous traits. I cry in disbelief that such hatred exists within your souls, and surely if life were worth living, you would find comfort in being kind.

Fairness comes with generosity, and to my grief I see my children quibbling over how much is really theirs. Sadly, I see that each has nothing, nothing in this world to share. What is a life without caring and sharing? An unhealthy life may be one answer. I am ashamed, and I regret that I must be your mother.