My sweet mamaPosted: October 13, 2013
My mom died today.
Eight years ago today.
In some ways it seems like just yesterday. It some ways, it seems like I never even knew her. At all. I can’t really remember the sound of her voice. When I try to recollect her voice, I hear the sound of her when she was sick, and it was not her, not the real her. I miss the sound of her laugh. She had a great laugh. It was genuine and from the heart. From the belly.
I miss her so much.
And yet, I feel like I don’t remember her at all. It’s as if she was never here at all.
She was awesome. So awesome. And she would want to spank me with the wooden spoon for being so unhappy and ungrateful for what I do have and for cussing so much.
Some times, I really hate those whose moms are still alive. I hate those whose moms are still healthy. If you have a mom, and she’s alive, I hate you. If you have a mom, and she’s healthy, I hate you.
Maybe that makes me small & petty & hateful. I can allow for that and I don’t care . It’s not rational, and I know that. It’s not logical, yet I don’t give 2 shits. You did nothing wrong, yet I feel the way I feel. I hate you. Could not care less. I hate you nonetheless. Even if you & your mama don’t have all that great a relationship and even if she drives you crazy or she’s distant or she’s not what you want or expect or need…I don’t care. I still hate you. Because she’s here. And mine is not. And that makes me hate you. All of you.
I hate cancer.
I fucking hate cancer.