So my mom died 16 years ago today, after a long and ugly bout with lymphoma. She was 40. We had a difficult relationship, but ultimately she was a good mother and a strong, intelligent woman.
This isn't something I talk or even think about in depth that often. I did for a long time, possibly too long, but by now there isn't much to be gained from it.
Even if there were, I don't think this would be the place to do it. Still, this has been on my mind enough this week that I wanted to say something. It's rare that your life is split so decisively into before and after, and there isn't much about me that hasn't been shaped by it in one way or another.
My sister and I make it a point to have dinner and split a bottle of wine each year, so we'll do that later. Also there's supposed to be a good meteor shower early Tuesday morning, and it's going to be clear and cold. I might drive out somewhere and watch it because I like that sort of thing.