Though I hid, self-protected and continued to wear the masks that I thought gave me some value, Jesus never stopped seeking the real me underneath.  He never abandoned me.  All the while, He was patiently working on me, preparing my very calloused and guarded heart to be broken again through the second loss of my dad.  But this break would be healing and redemptive, because it would finally let Love Himself enter in.  And He came in through another father, His father and now mine – Good St. Joseph.  I truly believe everything started with my simple prayer after that providential homily.  St. Joseph became the guardian of my healing journey and continues to be my strong and faithful pillar along the way, in both explicit and sometimes hidden ways.

But my mom was human. Both my parents were human. And the very fact that in spite of the deep pain and abuse that my mom went through for most of her life, she still tried…SHE TRIED. That is the difference.

I searched my heart for months and I accepted how I felt about this situation and made a decision. I realized that if I did not take care of them my guilt would have been much worse than I had experienced in my life. My father remained at his home with home health care and I oversaw his care. My mother eventually spent the last nine months of her life at home with my husband and me.

About one year ago something very traumatic happened... My precious, amazing mom passed away... My world shattered the day that I lost her. Watching her suffer for months and being powerless to help her made me feel like I could relate in some way to our Blessed Mother, to the agony and helpless that she must have felt in watching her beloved Son die.

Grieving our lost identities in childhood and in our everyday lives can help us heal. At the same time if we recognize our need for security in our obsessive search for self, and realize that God is the only true source of security and steadfast love, then we will know who we are.

I share this tale because I know many of us long to hear apologies from one or both of our parents for their own roles in the divorce. I just encourage you to pray for apologies and a sense of remorse not for your own sake but for theirs. If we forgive them in our hearts, we can find healing without their apologies.

As many of you can surely relate, my relationship with my mom was never easy. I struggled with how to relate to her, agonized over her health, and beat myself up for never “feeling” love towards her. But one thing I have learned throughout this whole ordeal, that I will likely need to be reminded of many times, is that love is an act of the will. Feelings are a side-benefit. I rarely felt excited or looked forward to calling my mom on Sundays. But I did it, and this act showed my love towards her, even though I did not feel it.