it seems I am my mother's daughter after all.
Big bad Bill who smoked a belvedere in three drags and single handedly consumed more beer than the Navy lived to be 80.
Mama Dear - loved by more people than the Navy employs - made a wretched exit alone in the wee hours of late March 1989 - wrapped in Laura Secord French Mint sheets - dignity gone- taken by the ravages of breast cancer. She was just 62.
I intend only to be my mother's daughter in that her sense of humour was wiley, wise and witty. In that her love filled entire rooms the way the Beatles filled living rooms. In the way that not once in the 2.5 year battle she fought did she complain.
I want to be like her in that she was the most amazing warm human who always had a pork chop for my friends and who lived and loved by the saying - km as long as I have a dime you will always have a nickel in you pocket.
Well Mom, I have about 287 dimes as I keep finding them everywhere- so that means 287 of the people I love have nickles but I love a couple thousand more people so I am gonna need some more time.
And no offense Ma- as much as I miss you - as much as my heart aches everyday just to hear your ole southern drawl- you are not going to see me anytime soon.
It is time now to be the best combo of both my parents. After all if wasn't for them I wouldn't be here it all.