Polimom’s mind isn’t on politics this morning.
Instead, I’m wandering some dusty, rarely-visited rooms in my mind — the places where a lady I knew for 35 years is young, vibrant, healthy, and sometimes frustrated with the antics of a couple of goofy girls.
She figures in more current vignettes too, but those are harder memories; I much prefer those older rooms.
Either way, those are the only places she still lives because this morning, in about an hour, I’ll be saying good-bye with my best friend to her mother.
Dusty, happier rooms
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Sorry to hear about this. I lost my own mother not all that long ago, and the memories sometimes come back and hit me like a blow on the side of the head. Not fun, to be sure. Those “older rooms” can be very dear and comforting. Hand on to them, and tell your friend that others are thinking of her and hers.
~EdT.
I’ve been where you are and I’m sorry you have to go there. As Ed said, know that others of us are thinking of her and also you, for you’ll need the strength to hug her and help.
Blessings to you both.
You guys are so kind. Thanks so much.
The turn of the wheel is always sad.