It's Not All About Me

I needed to take some time off of my extensive years of blogging....oh wait, its only been a couple of months.....but anyway, I needed some time away.
I had a visit with my mom recently. She had knee replacement surgery-her second-and my sibs and I were making an effort to visit with mom and dad to make sure they were getting along OK. As you know from my rantings, mom has mental health issues and dad caters to her every whim. I respect him immensely, but wish he would encourage her to do more for herself.
That aside, I spent last weekend with family-in-laws and friends, and through a series of discussions, I concluded that maybe I am as needy as mom. Could that be why she irritates me so?!
I think I need to be less aware of me and more about everyone else.
None of us are perfect....surprise!
I have been trying to go to confession more often and I find that each time I go, I end up in tears. I don't think I am that kind of a gal that cries easily, but for some reason, in confession, the tears flow. I could be confessing that I killed a fly (which, by the way, are plentiful in my work place, and I have been known to throw a curse word or two at those poor creatures....devils that they are!) and I'd still cry. I feel like the good Lord is telling me something. Confession is a cleansing experience. I wish more people would use this wonderful sacrament. It gives me pause and makes me think about the lasting effects of my selfishness.
Last week in confession as I was weeping about my relationship with mom, or more accurately, lack thereof, my dear priest told me to accept my mother as my cross to bear with Christ. Wouldn't you think that at 47 years of age I would have figured that out?!
It goes to show, our bodies age, but our psyches do not.
Peace.