Today I was remembering a history lesson Mom had given us back in 6th or 7th grade. It was someting I'd had an attitude about at the time, but I realized that I remembered more of it than I thought I did. What's more, I cared about this topic now.
"How about that?" I thought. "Mom actually knew what she was doing when she taught us. She taught me to care about this stuff. I should tell her that. She'd get a kick out of hearing me say that after all this time."
It only took half a second or so before I remembered that I couldn't tell Mom. It's been over five years now since she died. You'd think I'd be able to remember that.
2 comments:
Yeah, I've had moments like that, too. It doesn't hurt as much as it used to. (Well, at least normally.) But it's still frustrating.
Yep, I know this feeling as well. It's even harder when there's less assurance that there will be a reunion because the departed gave no indication of having received Jesus into his life.
Post a Comment