Sometimes you just wake up and get too deep in the morning during your morning primping. Today was one of those mornings as I thought about the relationships between mother and child, and more specifically, me and my mom. As I live in this crazy life, dealing with everything that is thrown at me, I think, “how is it possible for someone to get through all this without being able to confide, consult and discuss with their mom?” It shouldn’t even be allowed.
As I sit at my desk working on stuff and trying not to go nutty between calls and emails and thinking about tomorrow’s presentation that I should be preparing for, I look at the picture of her, Jacob and me from 2001 and see how much we looked alike (especially when we both had blonde hair-hehe). I see her card to me from my first, and our last, Mother’s Day written in her frail handwriting and it breaks my heart because even sick, she got me the most beautiful gift and knew me so well and took the time to think of me the way she always did.