To the rest of the world, today is just another day filled with work, errands, laughter, frustration, and life. But to me, June 15 will never be just another day that goes by unnoticed.
On June 15, 1993, I received a call from my father that my mother had had a massive heart attack and that the doctors didn't think they would be able to save her life. They weren't.
Just like that, the woman who had given me life and made sure I lived it to the best of my ability, was gone. I never saw her, except as her body lay in her casket. I can't even remember what we shared when I saw her the few days before her death. Whatever it was, I took it for granted that there would be a next time. But there never was. I was never able to ask her another question, never able to hear her voice, never able to know her thoughts. It was over. My relationship with my mother ended on June 15 without warning and I could never get it back.
I know that many of you, my friends, have had rocky relationships with your mothers; and there are others who feel a close bond with their mom. In some instances, the same feelings exist in the same individual. But I ask you today, if for no other reason than you are my friend, to call
your mom and hear her voice. It may be the same conversation that you always have, but be thankful that you can hear it.
My love to you all, and my tribute today to my mother.
My next post will be about losing my religion
2 months ago