Powerful post and perfect ending (for literature). I thought I was the only one who had to tell my mother you can’t be mean to people. What a generation these women were? Another great post.
This story is powerful and poignant. I want more. More of what this felt like for you. Yet, you say more with less in your exquisite writings. I hurt for you and Fi. I see you both so differently than she. "Hurt people (can) hurt people." Your strength, insights and smile have survived and thrived....tell us how....
Moms do say some pretty mean things when they approach what they suspect is the final chapter. I can’t say I blame her for her mean words and the guilt she was inflicting. She was always a fighter. Cancer survivor, a few mini strokes, countless bouts of pneumonia. She wanted to die, at home, surrounded by her loved ones. How many beautiful, final days did she attend with others in her state? Isn’t that the reason you have kids, to take care of you in your old age?
But….isn’t she the one to push us out of NJ to see how others lived? Didn’t she have a career before settling down and starting a family at the ripe old age of 30. Gosh, I miss her, love her and wish I had lived down the street. Darn, she could be tough. Growing up during the depression, losing her own mom at the age of 9 and battling with the rest of the country during WWII, she had the right to speak her mind. There was no quieting that Irish Lass. But I believe, she taught me well. RIP
Wow, and look how strong you are now. It sometimes takes us a long time. I can’t wait to read the full story of your life.
Wow! I love this - and believe it can take a lifetime to be able to write it.
Powerful post and perfect ending (for literature). I thought I was the only one who had to tell my mother you can’t be mean to people. What a generation these women were? Another great post.
Another Monday, just like that! Wonderful prose, SBK! You take me there and deliver your one-two punch.
The art of endings. You are the expert.
This story is powerful and poignant. I want more. More of what this felt like for you. Yet, you say more with less in your exquisite writings. I hurt for you and Fi. I see you both so differently than she. "Hurt people (can) hurt people." Your strength, insights and smile have survived and thrived....tell us how....
Simply incredible. Both the story and the writing. I'm so sorry you guys had to live that for so long.
left breathless.
Moms do say some pretty mean things when they approach what they suspect is the final chapter. I can’t say I blame her for her mean words and the guilt she was inflicting. She was always a fighter. Cancer survivor, a few mini strokes, countless bouts of pneumonia. She wanted to die, at home, surrounded by her loved ones. How many beautiful, final days did she attend with others in her state? Isn’t that the reason you have kids, to take care of you in your old age?
But….isn’t she the one to push us out of NJ to see how others lived? Didn’t she have a career before settling down and starting a family at the ripe old age of 30. Gosh, I miss her, love her and wish I had lived down the street. Darn, she could be tough. Growing up during the depression, losing her own mom at the age of 9 and battling with the rest of the country during WWII, she had the right to speak her mind. There was no quieting that Irish Lass. But I believe, she taught me well. RIP