The Lives I Did Not Save

This is a confession.
My mother died, at 46, during a lung biopsy.
Before this biopsy she had been in a wheel chair for months, due to

sudden pain that
appeared one morning in her legs.
Not one of the fancy Boston doctors, at the time, could figure out what

was wrong.
So they ended up calling it Hysteria.

Yep.

My confession is that I arrogantly believed that if I had only:

moved home full time from college,
gotten her to eat real food instead of Lean Cuisines,
found a naturopathic doctor,

I might have saved her.

I thought I should have been there for my sister too.
She died in a car accident at 36.
We had been best friends, until the two years before her death, when something happened.
If I had only:

forced the lines of communication back open,
told more people that I was concerned,
given up being right,

I might have saved her.

She may have been less distracted by her secrets, and looked the

right way before making that turn.

I am learning.
The only way in which I can truly help people is:

To witness them,
Question them,
Listen to them,
In love.

My current beliefs -
Watch out for thinking I can control. I am a cheerleader.
We are all healing ourselves.

I can’t help wishing that I had been around more
on the sidelines with my mom and sister.
I no longer think that I could have changed the series of events.

But I would have loved more moments.