Mother

I found out last night that my mother is dying and I am grieving, but not because I will miss her, but because I never had her. I haven't lived with her since I was ten years old—fifty years ago. It is hard to be the pariah of her family, but I cannot change what is. I can only be grateful that she gave me life, and through her troubled family I was exposed to the gospel! I am so grateful to have my wonderful Ron! He is my constant—the one who loves me! And, I’m grateful for my beautiful children!

I am hopeful that in the next life she will be able to see more clearly, to find a tiny piece of love for me, and to find peace and rest to her soul and to know that I forgive her. When I was little I called her Mamma. She had dark cholocate eyes, and thick beautiful dark brown hair with a hint of auburn when It caught the sun. I always wanted to have her hair instead of my golden locks and freckles. She was my sun and my moon and my stars. May God now bless and keep my Mamma!