It has been nearly 9 years since I had to say good-bye, but not a day goes by that I don’t wish you were still here with me. Thank you for finding me and for choosing me to be your very own Human. I will never be able to put into words what you did for me and how the memories of you carry me through. I miss you, Korkabork. I always will.
, lessons in the desert he said leaving is never easy and she walked out the door a dust devil came for her soul as she realized she wouldn’t see him anymore the dreams still haunt her what could have been and things left unsaid did she ever really know him or was it all in her head the desert… Read more »
In late 2001, Daddy retired, and Mamma an’ him sold their house in Floyd County, Virginia, and moved back to the desert that Mamma loved so much. She was so happy, and you couldn’t have gotten that smile off of her face if you tried. Sadly, she suffered a massive stroke on 2 February 2002 – mere weeks after closing… Read more »
After Mamma and Daddy got married, we adopted a dog. Daddy tried to object. He didn’t want a dog. He certainly didn’t want a dog in the house, on the furniture. He was a Drill Instructor at Ft Sill, OK, and marrying into the position of “Daddy” seemed to be as much chaos that he anticipated, and bringing a dog… Read more »
I am lucky that growing up my Mamma taught me that DNA does not make you family. Just because you are related, it doesn’t mean that you have to subject yourself to toxic behavior. She didn’t take her advice. I believe that since she felt such a struggle with her “family,” that she made sure I learned from her mistakes…. Read more »
My parents died a few weeks apart in 2002. They had just sold their place in Floyd County, Virginia and moved to Carlsbad, New Mexico. About three weeks after moving into their new home my mother had a massive stroke. She died a few hours after I arrived at the hospital. Everyone said she held on for me. I spoke… Read more »
30 years ago today I was sitting in a chapel filled with many of my friends. We were all wearing black; there were uncomfortable silences only broken with gentle sobs. They buried my friend that day. I miss you still. *link to El Paso Times – Death in the Desert
A friend of mine called today. Her grandfather was told he has lung cancer, they have basically sent him home to die. She is heading out in a few days to see him. It is going to be hard on her I am sure. Just talking to her brings back a rush of memories. Some of them good, some of… Read more »