Love, Doubt, and Thumbs

He told me he loved me. I listened with only half an ear. The rest of my attention strayed. Perhaps our family values were different. Perhaps our religious values were different. Perhaps . . . I was using anything that came along to divert my thoughts from exactly the questions I should be carefully thinking over. Trying to solve the puzzle of my son's mental health issues is more savory to me than the conundrum my own life had become.

I should be happy, right? He said he loves me. But it was not from whom I expected or wanted it from.

I have made mistakes in the past. No doubt I am going to make a lot more. The trouble came with making choices that felt so right or so good while they were in progress. I gave my eldest son up for adoption 20 years ago and it still felt like the right choice. So why lately does it hurt so much?

With being "down for the count" for over 48 hours due to shots received in my right shoulder, I have had too much time to think, and then my mind rambles. I have been looking deep inside myself trying to discover who I am.

I am still searching for me but I do know that I am an independent, single mother who still needs love and still craves sucking her thumb when not feeling well.