If every month could be July, and every day be the 23rd, I’d wish that true so that everyone remember you… always. I miss you
mom.This month has been hard. Thoughts of you haunt me at night, when I go to bed. And I never see you healthy. I always seem to see the sick, disturbed, even deranged you. It keeps me awake. So I take pill… then another… and another. I’m certain Lars thinks I have a problem. Maybe he’s right. But I was disturbed before you died. And then I found your bottle. You’d recently been prescribed the same meds as I. I knew all along mom. If only your cunt of a mother hadn’t taught you shame… we’d have lived through this together. You’d not be dead.
So many things killed you. So many things to blame... So many little things that would have saved you… If just one of them wasn’t the way they were…
But time and time again, I blame another portion. The Canadian system, alcohol, your mother, the doctors, those who watched you die… Deep down I know, blame does no one any good. It was your time.
But it’s not mine. I’m not ready to mourn you. And it hurts today if it was yesterday. And I don’t care if today is not the 23rd. I miss you and am mourning you now damn it!
You should not be gone so soon. Lars and I are throwing around the idea of having a baby one day. How can I do that without you?
0 words of wisdom: