Attempting not to end every sentence with the equivalent of “WTF is WRONG with you?”
Here’s to hoping I don’t say it out loud.
Again.
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Attempting not to end every sentence with the equivalent of “WTF is WRONG with you?”
Here’s to hoping I don’t say it out loud.
Again.
Another Christmas survived. Another sad little day but we made it through.
Mom says it’s the last one she will be able to do. Her health is too shot.
Next year I cook. If she’s still here.
If not, well …
Not ready to think about that yet.
There has to be hope. Has to be.
I mean, we give health insurance to idiots who take years off of their competent colleagues’ lives. Why can’t good, useful and loving people like her get the same courtesy?
She cooked her little heart out today. And though she didn’t feel well, she pushed through the pain and went with me to see some Christmas lights.
I loved it. I hope she did too.
As always she thanked me for working so hard for us. She wished she could give me a gift. I told her she does every day that she’s here.
Enjoying a moment together is gift enough …