Floored by a visit to Kent to remember with family what
would have been my mother’s ninetieth birthday, and now by a migraine. I
wonder if they’re connected.
I may not be
grieving for my mother but I’m certainly going through the wringer. Guilt,
anger, regret. Remembering everything I’ve done wrong in my life and all the
wrong that’s been done to me. Wondering what my own old age and death will be
like. Wondering about death. (Sorry, I sound like Moaning Myrtle.)
Thank goodness for
Frog, that’s all I can say. Who puts up with all my moods and makes me laugh.
And the dog. Who
gets me out every day.
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