This is what I do know: until you forgive someone as close as a mother, you are at war with yourself, you continue to gnaw that leg of yours caught in a trap. Why are you at war with yourself? I think because to hold a grudge against another person you have to recognize in them a quality that you yourself possess but can’t admit to.
Mary Rose O’Reilley, The Love of Impermanent Things, A Threshold Ecology
I’m reading this book for the second time. Although I loved it the first time around, I don’t think I was ready for it. I was in the midst the final year of my mother’s life. I was gnawing on my own leg. Blind. Unable to see what was before me.
I refound this marvelous book a few days ago, going through one of those unpacked boxes left from our move over a year ago. Still trying to purge, I was looking for books I could part with. Books I could take to the library for their big sale in March. But this one will stay with me. Within it, the words speak to my heart and I am finding myself.