31 years ago today, my mom, who was 57 at the time, passed away. 31 years, that’s over 11,315 days, and I have thought about her and missed her on nearly every single one. Excessive? No, not really. If you’ve lost someone you love, you know that’s just the way it is. You also know that Kubler-Ross has ca-ca stains in her underwear. Seriously, those stages? They certainly aren’t linear. They are more like a big Rubik’s cube, ever shifting, rising and falling, a force that you carry around. Anger, sadness, happy memories, regrets, all there in one awkward bundle. 31 years, I’ve been holding my bundle. Acceptance? Did she really use that word? HA. Well, you get used to it. Perhaps that is all you can hope for, and in this life, we can get used to a hell of a lot. Meh. I’m going to go get a massage. Later in the day I will probably have a shot and a beer, listen to Eddy Arnold and cry like a baby. It will feel good. Let it all out. Tomorrow? Well that’s day 11,316. I will get up, the sun will shine, I’ll make coffee and maybe paddle the lake, move along. We all still miss you Mom.
July, what a month. There were some good times, in the mountains there are always some good times. Here, a few scenes…..
|Blueberry field with a view|
|Picking? or eating?|
|It’s not an ocean but it will do|