I had a dream about my mother, so I went back in time and found the post that I wrote after her death.
I’ve learned the most of what I don’t what to be from my parents. If you have good parents, love them up, and never let them go.
The thing about organized religion, and religious people, they mean well, they just don’t always have all the facts.
As Paul Harvey used to say….”now for the rest of the story.”
The funeral today for my mother was filled with the “dereguerre” of songs, scripture, tears, and well wishes.
I should have known that there was a final “shoe” left to drop. It dropped at the graveside.
My mother left this world with her dissatisfaction, criticism, and complaints of me on her lips. Not just to her friends, but to her pastor in her directions to him regarding her funeral.
I had rationalized as a cancer patient tends to lash out at those they care for at the end. My mothers issues have always been consistent for the last 35 years. I should have known better than to join the rationalization party.
The final good bye at the gravesite, and…
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