my mother is dying

[countryjake]

81. A kindred spirit, here. Peace to you.

Oh, the stories I could tell. My ancient mother was an old countryjake, thru and thru, (she used to call herself that whenever we went into my tiny hometown, as she'd scorn every "cityslicker" she spied) and for me to say that we "never got along" would be a huge understatement. One of her favorite remarks, which she exclaimed to her dying day, was "I've still got my arms!"...a little itty-bitty woman who had a strength of the lifelong's work of a country woman. And she never hesitated to use it, on me.

I was her caregiver as she valiantly tried to fight off death, not long ago. My only child, my own daughter, couldn't understand how I could summon up the compassion to tend to the needs of a person who had never thought twice about using her fists on my face and body. My answer was simple, tho something I had thought on quite a lot during my eight months spent back home with a woman who never wanted me. I told my girl, "You wouldn't exist if it weren't for her."

My daughter wouldn't even come to her funeral.


A Happy Mother's Day to you, kpete! And a big ole cyberhug, from one sister to another.