I had a long conversation with mom last night. She is of course concerned, as any mom would be. I told her not to worry about me. I’m fine. My resolve has not, and will not waver, no matter what happens.
Basically it’s because I am not afraid. I’m not afraid of the future, and I’m not afraid of the past. The past is over and done with. I can’t change it, but at the same time I can’t let it cripple me.
Mother Angelica told a story once about two men living in Alaska. One day one of the men died and his friend buried him. The next day when he woke up, he found his dead friend sitting in a chair in his room. He went out and buried him, but the next morning he was there again. This went on for weeks. Finally, the man went crazy and committed suicide. But before he died he left a note. It said he had been sleepwalking the night before and dug up his friend. Every night he had been digging up his friend.
What do we dig up the past for? Just to find out how much it stinks? At some point we have to move on. It’s dead! I don’t like what happened to me, but I’m grateful for who I am.
I am living one of the most peaceful moments of my life, because I have faced the truth, dealt with it, and am looking toward the future with hope.