Sunday Scribblings-In the Last Hour...

In the last hour before...
I was numb. Drained. All that was me
ceased to exist. I did as I was told.
I followed those who lead. I became the
child once again and let my parents
show me the way. I let them save me,
I let them help me, I let them love
me the only way they knew how through
such circumstances. I let them pay, I let them
struggle, I let them question. I let them down.

In the last hour after...
I was relieved. I was alone, yet I was loved.
I was tierd, sick, sore, and broken, yet I was loved.
I was uncertain of what each hour would bring.
I was empty and yet full.
Once again I let my parents lead me. I let them love me.
I let them care for me. I let myself need them.
I let the ugly truths come out.
I let my crushed and bruised soul come home.
I was home.

A home that will always open it's doors for me.
A home that is bigger than all of us.
A home that led me to where I am today.

I am not the same as the one who lived those hours
and yet I am. I regret all her mistakes and yet they
led me to salvation. I can still shed a tear for her and
all she endured and yet I can raise her up and sing and dance
in celebration of her and all that she was. I understand
that she needed to survive, for me.