January 20.

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.

my beautiful mother

on my wedding day

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.


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