I can't express to anyone why the ache of missing my Mom comes and goes at is does. Perhaps it's because I am approaching the anniversary of her death, September 28, 1988. But beyond that, right now, this moment, I am aching for my Mom. I had such jealousy of my friends who passed by the bullshit of teen years and got to know their Mom's as fellow adults. Cohorts that supported each other. In reality of my three closes friends none of them have had that much extra time with their Mom's. Missy and Prissy lost their mom to cancer not long after I did. Graybelle has lost her mom to the absence of other distractions. But still I ache. I want to know what my Mom's favorite color was. I want to know what she wanted to be when she grew up. I want to know how she felt about gay marriage. My gut tells me she wouldn't have given a fig, which is how I feel. But mostly I want the warm embrace. The hug she gave me when I started my period at Burgerville. I
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