26 Apr

Tomorrow is April 27, 2006.

April 27, 1989, my mother lost her battle with Breast Cancer, after losing a breast, her hair, and most of my childhood.

So today, the day before, I wonder how I should feel, really. Usually on this day I do one of a few things:
Totally ignore the day
Act like an asshole all day
Get depressed as all hell
Honor my mother and her memory but remembering why I love her
Admittedly, that last one is the hardest. And it will be this year, since my father is still with us.

The deathday is a hard thing. Everyday I feel the loss, I feel the void where she isn’t, I see the look in my daughters eyes that should be filled with their grandmother. But how should I be on this day? Should I prepare for it? Should I walk on glass everyday? Should I finally get over it, and move on with my life.

Well duh. Even I know that answer.


Quiet questing eyes shut closed by
some type of unknowing we cannot bear to hold.
Seconds removed from minutes, days which
danced away from us, the time we
didn’t recognize as that we’d regret.

Your years were lived in those eyes, wise
old soul clothed in a child, pending, waiting

I know you without knowing. I see
my children running through you, around you
imps on the air you sift through
words and thoughts theybring you closer.

Words become lessened with
speechless hurts.

You teach us well. We watch your eyes in sleep.

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