This morning I was thinking about my life in Cape Girardeau, MO, growing up very near the Mississippi River and how special that river was to me as a child & also as a teen-ager. There was just something about sitting on a river wall (NOT THE river wall downtown, but the one out near Cape Rock) and watching the river go by. Somehow it soothed my soul at times.
My teen-age years were tumultuous to say the least. I was quite the rebellious one. Consequently, I had many troubled thoughts. I had given up praying because I thought God likely was not happy with me, and I even doubted His existence. (I don’t doubt it now)
Did anyone else from Cape ever talk to the river? I may regret putting this information out into cyberspace, but I did talk to that river when I was young. I told it my troubles, hoping they would rush on down the river with that water. Sometimes, at particularly bad times, I would think about jumping into that river but never had the guts (or lack of them) to do it. Besides, I was afraid there might actually be a hell and I was afraid of going there.
I was madly in love with a young man who did not love me and I spent the better part of 10 years trying to MAKE him love me. I met him when I was 12; I gave up on him when I was 21. And, NO, I will not name the person. Some of you closest to me and to him know who it was. But let’s not go there. I now know that if there was ever anything impossible, definitely making someone love you is absolutely not possible. I was a sorry mess, I can tell you.
Even if the Mississippi River is not a person, it sure listened to me and never berated me or gave me any advice. Sometimes that’s really all you need; just to be able to voice what is in your heart and imagine that someone or something is listening and cares about how you feel.
I still love that river and I sure do miss it.*Photo courtesy of: http://www.publicdomainpictures.net/view-image.php?image=45114&picture=river