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4 years out.
#1
4 years out.
Today, is my late mother's birthday. It is hard to believe that it has been 4 years since she died in March of 2017. But every August 5th is a moment of pause and reflection and pain and hope and fond memories all at the same time. 

My mom was a very independent woman. A very stubborn, but also a very giving human. Growing up our personalities clashed  as we were opposites. But even given that, my entire life she was always there for me. 

Her authoritarian upbringing, and my sensitivity clashed growing up. But the good thing about time and age, is that one can grow, and both of us did. Better late than never, both of us grew to a greater understanding of each other  over time. 

I remember to this day, when I was a kid, and my mom and I were approaching the Woodrow Wilson bridge going from Maryland into Virginia, and a giant bird of some species flew in front of her Jeep/former mail Jeep, and yes the driver's wheel was on the right side. Anyway, she noticed it a split second before I did, and threw her left arm across my chest even though I was wearing my seatbelt.  The bird  hit the windshield of course. And both of us shit our pants. I think I was 6 or 7 at the time.

And my very first Christmas gift I can remember was a giant stuffed Winnie The Poo Bear. At the time I got it, it was about as tall as I was. But over time things age, wear out ect ect ect. In my late teens my mom asked me what I wanted for Christmas. I told her I wanted her fix up my stuffed Poo Bear. DAMNED IF SHE DIDN'T. She did just that.

The thing I admired about her the most, is that she knew how to take care of things, not just financially, but knick-knacks as well. I am physically bad with nice things. If anyone remembers the art restorer who broke King Tut's beard a few years back, that would be me (meaning the likes of metaphorically).

My mom was a lifetime teacher. So much loved by her students, to the point that one of her students billions of years after, invited her to Alabama to attend his wedding. Mind you this was decades after he was her student. But he managed to track her down after she retired and moved to another state. 

I also remember my mom's rule, having actually also been a student in her class for a year growing up. My mom used to say on Fridays , "If Washington" meaning "NFL" team, wins on Sunday, there will be no homework for Monday. Problem was, when Washington lost, they didn't take it out on her, but me.  But anyway, I look back at that silliness, and understand that she was just trying to motivate students. 

I also remember as a kid, mom and dad and I were in Annapolis MD, docked at a Marina, and suddenly we hear an alarm. We look down the street, and suddenly two guys run out of a store holding guns. My mom instinctively shoved me into the birth of the boat, but I looked out the window. These two robbers were morons, cops chased them to the docks and all they had left to do was jump in the water. 

Point is, my mom was imperfect but compassionate too. She always took care of me. I will always miss her.
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#2
RE: 4 years out.
No matter how old you are when it happens, losing a parent always feels like being orphaned.
I'm not anti-Christian. I'm anti-stupid.
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#3
RE: 4 years out.
(August 5, 2021 at 9:37 am)Mister Agenda Wrote: No matter how old you are when it happens, losing a parent always feels like being orphaned.

All loss of life, parent or child will always leave a mental mark to the survivors. Nobody can avoid death, but all one can do is learn to cope the best they can.
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#4
RE: 4 years out.
That’s actually a nice reminiscence.

Boru
‘But it does me no injury for my neighbour to say there are twenty gods or no gods. It neither picks my pocket nor breaks my leg.’ - Thomas Jefferson
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#5
RE: 4 years out.
The expression here is very much appreciated and understood. My father's death at a young (his and my own) age left scars, yet enabled an awareness of some bare realities of life.

I can also relate to the football team story; my 6th grade teacher did the very same before Chicago Bears games. (This practice enabled another realization - that sports weren't earnest endeavor, so it was positively silly to govern something as important as academic matters around their outcome. I protested thereafter.)

Which, in the end, was poor protest timing for the 1985 year; the Bears lost only one game and won the Superbowl. Its a funny old life.
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#6
RE: 4 years out.
(August 5, 2021 at 11:08 am)DocIllinois Wrote: The expression here is very much appreciated and understood.  My father's death at a young (his and my own) age left scars, yet enabled an awareness of some bare realities of life.

I can also relate to the football team story; my 6th grade teacher did the very same before Chicago Bears games.  (This practice enabled another realization - that sports weren't earnest endeavor, so it was positively silly to govern something as important as academic matters around their outcome.  I protested thereafter.)

Which, in the end, was poor protest timing for the 1985 year; the Bears lost only one game and won the Superbowl.   Its a funny old life.



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#7
RE: 4 years out.
Here is a poem I wrote shortly after her passing.


Don't say Goodbye, By Brian37


It started one night
When I left
Just to be silly
To get a smile

Everyone says bye
But it happened one night
Instead I responded
"bicentennial"

It became a game
Between me and my mom
To come up with "bi" sounding words
To each we'd respond

The game was
Not to repeat
Or use each other favorites
As we parted each night


She'd respond 
To my "bicentennial"
With "biplane" 
And it went on and on

I'd say "bison", but would be in trouble
If I took her two favorites
"Buy one get one free"
Or "Bicarbonate of soda"

But we'd run out
Eventually
Knowing I'd have 
To eventually leave

She'd end it with
"Buy dog and cat food"
Knowing I'd make stops
On my way home

Feeling her cold skin
At the funeral home
The vile stiffness
It wont happen again

It was as if
I could wake her up
Just in a sleep
The way they prepped her

I can only find comfort
She's no longer in pain
But I hate that we will never
Play that game again

Bicentennial, biplane, bison, 
Biped, bicarbonate of soda
Biography, buy one get one free
I love you mom, I'll see you in the morning. ning
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