Well, sweet Byrdie, I offer up balm for your saddle sores: anties:. Okay, agreed, this is not balm; rather a pretty pair of panties. Life comes down to this, Yes? Clean underwear. "Always wear clean underwear," Mom advised, "In case you need to go to the hospital."
Lav, my dear first Mum in sobriety, Hospice has been contacted. I feel my mother's hand in the tiny center of my palm. And she is not alone.
Overitt, my sweet Nester friend. I am losing my mother. So happy to hear from you. I believe I became sober for this. For Love. For a pain that is trying to kill me. A pain that has transfixed me into an adult in one heartbeat. Life must go on.
Sounds silly, and please bear with me my Fellow Fledglings, but I worry about my little tree that I planted in our backyard. Hubs does not give it enough water. I don't think he does. He's quite scrupulous, no that's not the word, he's... what is the damn word?.. can't think of it... can't think of much... umm, it has to do with not wanting to spend a lot of money. But my little tree needs water.
Still... if my precious little tree dies I can go to the Nursery and buy another. Though I love THIS little tree very much. I cannot go to the Nursery and buy another Mama. Only one Mama. Only one.
I am tired. So tired.
Yet very much loving life. We are here for a short while. We are given this gift of life.
Goodnight. ~
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