I chose the title of this post (House of Pain) because a song titled that came up this morning on a mix I was listening to. That song always causes me to pause and think about pain.
Today is the anniversary of my mom passing. 15 years seems like a long time, and no it doesn’t feel like yesterday, but it also doesn’t feel like 15 years. Mom meant the world to me, and she tried to make our home and my life and my sisters the best possible. And she did a great job.
No home is perfect. Families struggle with mental and physical health issues. Financial and career problems. Addiction monkeys on members. Trying to have a family meal together but family members are going off to war. The day-to-day pressures of life and relationships.
I’ve seen a lot of pain in a lot of households. And enough in my own home growing up.

Families though have many things hidden to others. Ours was no different. But things only stay under wraps for so long.
In going through some more old family things yesterday and today I was reminded of some very worst of times. Tragic events that eventually lead to my father’s death. These must have shook her to the core and caused a lot of pain.
They lumped in with many others in my memories of that time that I didn’t realize the seriousness of or was shielded from it at the time before I was 5. But by time I was 6 or 7 years old, I knew serious things were happening. At 9 I was fatherless and at 42 mom was a widow.
I don’t know anyone who had dealt with more pain in their life than her. And I wasn’t the best of help in my teenage years shortly after his passing. I’m glad I changed and helped make her life better.
She had some good days later in life but her first 50 years were a struggle of epic proportions. Losing both of her parents at a very young age. Growing up in the Great Depression. A husband away in WWII and Korea. And many other personal family issues she dealt with my father and stayed by his side and tried her hardest to help him. She also had a great deal of courage facing physical problems both early and late in life.
I’m glad I have memories of better times with her, but I will never forget the sounds of her crying when I was young.
















































































































































































































