My mother would be 83 years old today. Oh I miss her. Happy Birthday, Mother, wherever you are. And I will never quit missing her.
The hardest thing is, she didn’t really have to die when she did. It is so hard to accept. I have had it in my mind ever since, to write something about the situation; what killed her, and call it “Pharmaceutical Hell.” I had despaired of ever doing it, but it occurs to me that it’s never too late. I can still do it. I’ve been working on clearing my “stuff,” physically and mentally, freeing myself; changing my creative longings into things I can actually DO – and believing that I can; that I actually can do all that I want. And I am getting to that place; clearing out the old; integrating it all within me, taking control. And I don’t feel as overburdened and “clogged” as I did, not so very long ago. I don’t feel the pressure, and the despair.
But I will never get over missing my dear, sweet mother.