Been thinking about my mom a lot lately. Today, 9/10, would have been her birthday.
I guess it's normal that these milestones bring to mind ghosts from the past to haunt us and make us reflect on relationships.
She had a hard time accepting a gay son & an even harder time when I met a man with whom I wanted to spend my life. She grew to accept him, but I'm not sure it was much more than acceptance.
Acceptance; hell, her mere acceptance applies to both of us during the first 15 years with Hubby.
But that began to change when I stayed with her in the hospital during her last few weeks. I think she grew a little fonder of Hubby during that time.
He came to her bedside several times a day and always brightened the room. He'd flirt with her and joke around always bringing a smile to her face.
I think she saw how much I depended on him to be my rock as she depended on my sister and me to be hers.
I don't know where I'm going with this. It's just ramblings but somehow it helps to exorcise this spirit.
I miss her. Eleven years after her passing and I miss her still.
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