Maybe Time Didn't Heal Wounds Exactly, But

No Mother. Two Small Words, And Yet Within Them Lay A Bottomless Well Of Pain And Loss, A Ceaseless Mourning For Touches That Were Never Received And Words Of Wisdom That Were Never Spoken. No Single Word Was Big Enough To Adequately Describe The Loss Of Your Mother.

It Was The Magic Hour, The Moment In Time When Every Leaf And Blade Of Grass Seemed To Separate, When Sunlight, Burnished By The Rain And Softened By The Coming Night, Gave The World An Impossibly Beautiful Glow.

The Heat Made People Crazy. They Woke From Their Damp Bedsheets And Went In Search Of A Glass Of Water, Surprised To Find That When Their Vision Cleared, They Were Holding Instead The Gun They Kept Hidden In The Bookcase.

Caro: "bite Me." Ruby: "i Gave That Up In Kindergarten.

A Daughter Without Her Mother Is A Woman Broken. It Is A Loss That Turns To Arthritis And Settles Deep Into Her Bones.