My Mom...three years ago today she was released from the hospital to come home to die. The doctors told us she had about 6 months but Mom had other plans. She died 12 days after coming home.
Now that my personal/public/work lives have stablized I am able to grieve her death. This is so wierd because I am going through this alone. What is a healed over scab for the rest of the family (Because I was following Mom's request that I make sure everyone was OK after she was gone and because I was so busy in my former job and with all the LGBT committes and boards I was serving on.) is now a fresh wound for me. The family doesn't understand and I don't expect them to. Fortunately Shelia, my boss and most of my friends do.
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