Grief
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I should eventually be able to forgive him. Or forgive myself. Or accept. I know I should. But somehow the only thing I feel now is anger. I am in a deep pit of it. So much so that the only reason I wish he were alive now is so I could channel all this…
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Difficult is watching my mother decline day after day, year after year, until we have reached a stage where almost nothing remains. She is a shell of the person she once was, stripped of almost everything that makes us willing to live. So I suppose I shouldn’t have been so heartbroken when, on her 65th…
