I've been dreaming about Mom a lot the last two weeks - most always about wanting to relieve her pain - so I know there's processing going on in the back of my head as well as the front. Who knows where that's leading, but the one thing I can tell you is that the people who say to tell those close to you that you love them every day, they are right, but they're not telling the whole story. I bore this advice in mind and told Mom every day - many times a day - and I know she died without any doubt about how much I loved her. But what nobody tells you that it doesn't matter. Regardless of how much you tell someone you love them, even if you tell them till you are blue in the face every single day, it still doesn't matter. The first time you want to tell them that you love them, and you can't, it aches in a way you couldn't understand before.
But it hasn't all been macabre and painful. My friends have been great, and Mary Keany an absolute treasure. Her mom died of lung caner a little over two years ago, and she approaches me with a care and delicacy - and sometimes the tough love - that only the commonality of our sorrow can allow. But everyone's taken care to fill my diary and my days with the life I love living here. And with that more positive note...
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