Monday, May 26, 2014


Melody and I were rolling along Pleasant Avenue a week ago Saturday; the thought twisting through my head was how laborious the trip to the library was vs. the return trip home. Nice and easy gliding. Almost.

It was mid-day and sunny. People were out and about. Having moved away from the downtown area, the people were fewer and further between.

To our right, a mature woman in a color coordinated outfit hat included, acknowledged our presence with a nod, wave, and  a full on smile. Dimple included.

And I was done. I steered Melody to the curb, took several deep breaths trying (unsuccessfully) to stave off the waterworks. A motorist pulled along aside me, asked if I was okay. I nodded in the affirmative to get her to move along. Snapped from the absorption of the moment, Melody and I roll the rest of the way home.

And there have been many (perhaps, too many) moments like that over the previous couple of weeks, especially the last few days.

Today is my mom's birthday. She would have been seventy-four.

She will be very much on my mind while I maneuver the day, sharing a meal with the kids, remembering the better times.



  1. I have so many mixed emotions reading this, sharing your grief at the loss of our mothers. I wish I had a magic word or two to make the pain of loss less and the joy of memories more. I don't.

    Still I do fall back on how much love we had that we now feel so much loss. So many people never get to experience that. We are the lucky ones.

    Hugs to you. I hope your memories of the better times will shine.

    1. 8th, I know, there aren't any words for I scramble for them myself in the comfort of others or in any attempt at self comfort.

      Folks tell me . . . time. However, in the present I find it hard to think about the future even as aI relish a time when the pain is less sharp.

      All that said, yes much love, some good memories and working to focus my energies in the land of good.

      Thanks for the hugs. And of course, right back to you.

    2. No words, just wanted to stretch out my hand.

    3. I have found that with time the pain does lessen, but the hole in my heart remains. I suspect it always will.

  2. Agree with you all. Sending heartfelt hugs through the ether. I will never stop missing my mom, I imagine we all feel that, and like 8 said, we are lucky that we had them... sniff sniff sniffle.

    Love to you, Deborah


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