Missing Mom

Dear Mom,

I am sad.  Not the kind of sad I am when I visit you because then I am always sad.  It's the kind of sad that sits in my bones.  And I think yours is the only hug that could help this kind of sad.  Sometimes I get angry at God for leaving you here in the shell of your body with no capacity to help me.  And then I feel guilty for being selfish.

Having been through the worst of depression, I have experienced many kinds of sad. But this is a type I don't know.  I feel quiet, as if something is vacuuming my soul back inside of myself.  What would you tell me to do?  Would you tell me to let my soul sit in the quiet or to push the reverse suction and reach out to someone?

Last night I read something incredibly profound.  It was about asking God for what you need in prayer.  Essentially it said not to ask God for the small things you can do yourself- that's lazy.  He is a huge God and wants to hear our biggest needs.  The thing is, Mom, I wasn't sure what to ask for.  Do I ask for peace in my heart, courage to walk away from people who are hurting me, or a miracle?  I don't feel worthy of a miracle and am not sure when I am honest that I know which miracle to ask for.    Because even greater than the miracle that would be my marriage or kind words from my step kids I would choose to have you back.  Even the saddest sad would be different knowing I could call you to talk about it.

I'll be by to see you today.  Forgive me if I hold on a little too long.