Walking Through Mud

Please excuse me if I my post is incoherent. I’m half-drunk with the wine I’ve been drinking since 10pm. I didn’t start out planning to get drunk. I was just trying to wait out my family in order to get some peace and quiet.

Oldest visiting daughter, Emily, went to bed at 10pm. Allison, the youngest, wanted to stay up until midnight. I let her stay up. Just as the ball dropped my husband came home!

After discussing the recent death of my mother, he wanted to know why there wasn’t a funeral. She didn’t want one.

He wanted to know why there wasn’t an obituary. She didn’t want one.

Why don’t I print up some photos and have them at the “Memorial”? She didn’t want that.

It’s hard enough trying to wrap my mind around what has happened in the last two weeks let alone try to experience it with someone who doesn’t understand the nuances and complications of my mother’s and my relationship.

It’s actually pretty simple to me, I loved her and I miss her already.

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