First time readers, kindly read the first entry for October 27, 2012, when this story began . . .
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I actually made MYSELF laugh today. I woke up and looked at the ceiling and said OUT LOUD to NO ONE . . . “I want my Mom.”
After a friend called me a “frog in a blender,” I replied, “I’ll send you the Grinch’s 39 and a half foot pole and YOU can be in CONTROL.”
Not exactly . . . I was a lot nicer. Really.
I said, “This week’s always difficult for me . . . since Mom died the day after Thanksgiving.”
Mom is, I’m sure, sitting on a cloud in heaven, frowning. Dad’s trying really hard to distract her, but she’s not a happy camper.
“I died in 1979,” Mom is saying, through gritted teeth. “MOVE ON.”
‘Mom voodoo’ during Thanksgiving week is pretty persuasive.