Ever since 2006 the date February 8th, chills my heart, a day that brings a memory of my mother resting peacefully on her bed. I can still recall the coldness of her skin when I gently pulled off her watch. I tried to block out any thought that my mother has gone home. A policeman touched my shoulder and brought me back to real life and his question pierced me with pain. “Is she your mother?" My response escaped from my eyes as the tears cascaded down my face. Tears that flooded the room as I witness them carry her out.
Daily I try to replace that horrible memory with past experiences that have brought warmth. My manuscript is filled with her failures, secrets and long buried hurts from our dysfunctional family. Stories I have edited and relived each time I read them. They have strengthened and given me the insight that life is a precious gift from God. I hope my story will bring as much comfort to others as it has to me.
Mom I miss you. Mom, thank you for giving me life.