Concerning Remembering

7 years ago this morning, my mother died. I can replay the events of that morning again and again as if it was happening right in front of me.

It's a strange thing, in retrospect, I didn't cry. I don't think I have ever since then to be totally honest. I could never figure myself out enough to understand why I didn't. Shock? Denial? Who's to say? But it always bothered me, even now.

To say I don't think about what could have been would be lying. It's not often, but it crosses my mind from time to time of what she would think. I don't really remember her other than from when she got sick to that morning. The IVs, the feeding tubes, the medication, the whole damn mess of it. I would like to have one clear memory about the person she was, but that's something I won't ever have.

How would she take all these silly tattoos? my crazy ideas? all the things that i'v done? The one piece of clarity I have I suppose is that I m doing the things I want and what I feel is right, and if it were me: I wouldn't mind they way i'v turned out.

Out of all this business, I know in my heart I'm true to myself and I m making my own way, and I hope that will be enough. I don't seek her approval, cause that's something I will never have, but it enough to think i have it.

I don't write this for sympathy. I don't ask anything of anyone who reads it, other than say I love you to the ones you do. Let them know, that way they will always know you do.