Matthew Woodson


“Dear Mother,

In writing this, I fear a tip of the scales, and a push at our already fragile boundaries. I am growing too old in my pain, and I feel as if I can find no solution. When I was a boy, you taught me to conquer my fears. But mother, I fear only two things in this world, two things which are rather unconquerable; death and god. And I know no matter which one comes first, the next soon will follow.

As these words fall from my pen, they pierce like arrows. But I am afraid I am spilling this to deaf ears. I tried mother, I really did. No matter if you believe it or not, I did what I could to become a “good” person. I pursued my dreams to no avail, though I did try … is that not enough for salvation? To be taken under the wing? I am destined to be cast away from those who birthed me, and raised me?

I spoke true words, I guided my brothers by the hand, and in the end what do I receive? Punishment, and death. Is this how this world works? If so, I do not wish to be thrown back into this world again. But Mother, my foot holds are slipping, there are missing rungs in this ladder. My hands are false, my fingers numb, I can not attain the slightest grip. Is this how my brother fell? Is this why many fall, and can never reach this true high goal?

I am afraid that my words mean nothing to you anymore. I am afraid that nothing I do will ever allow me to repent for my sins. But my sins are the sins of being a human being. Human beings live with sins, and everyday I sinned. What forgiveness will be given to any man with such impiety, let alone a man such as I? Mother, I have sinned. That is all I can say to you, I don’t not expect forgiveness, the statement on its own is enough exemption to let me release this burden with a sigh.

But I am sorry mother, I am sorry for living the life of a man, of a mere human being. I know that no matter what apology I give to you, it will not allow you a response of reassurance.

Your son”

Matthew Woodson
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Text/Image: Copyright © 2004 MW