Twenty-nine years ago I lost my mom, and not a day has gone by that I have not thought of her. My life was forever changed, in some ways for the worse, and I suppose in others for the better. This is worthy of re-posting in memory of her.
On January 19, 1986 I got a new pair of specs. Things have never looked the same since.
The almost seventeen years of my life leading up to this day could hardly be described as normal, and yet our family had achieved its own unique brand of normal. With my dad’s forever compromised health, there were ample and regular doses of worry and angst. Even so, like any family we laughed, we fought, we played and we laughed some more. We kind of had it figured out, in our own weird way. It worked.
Then seemingly out of nowhere, what started out as an annoying cough for my mom was then diagnosed as bronchitis, then pneumonia and finally mesothelioma – a deadly and rapid growing cancer from exposure to asbestos. Three days from this diagnosis to her departure – that was all we had. Three days! In what felt like…
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