The loss of a parent is never easy. The finality of it tears at your fabric, forcing you come to terms with death. It doesn't matter if your mom or dad was a spry 99 or a sick 30. You hurt. My brother texted the family yesterday with the news that his ex-wife's mother had died. Linda was 85 and had been ill for many years, but that didn't make this any less painful to process. I shed tears for sweet Linda and her smile and funny way of pronouncing names. I cried for my brother's lost marriage and how when he divorced, we all lost part of our family. I cried for my ex-sister-in-law, who even now I can't call. A sympathy note will be sent and flowers were ordered. I cried for her sister Francis. Before all the hurt and the name-calling and the lies, we were friends. Blood does gravitate to blood. We took our corners and protected our siblings. I am sad that I can't call her now; I would love to hear her voice and tell her how much I love and miss her. The same goes for Christine. Sadness permeates my heart....my sad heart.
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