My mom and I never had a great relationship. I know she loved me, but I was the oldest and mouthiest, so she and I were always butting heads. As she lay dying—14 years ago this summer—we made our peace in that half-assed, not-really-dealing-with-it way that us white folk are fond of. But we both got the gist. She was kind of a bitch, and I was kind of a handful. (Both of those, understatements.) We cleared the air and I believe we both felt a lot better once that was out in the open and mutually apologized for.
Anyway, Mother's Day is never much fun for me. Just another Sunday, but one with sad memories. My mom slowly suffocated to death a decade and a half ago and I didn't appreciate her nearly enough when she was alive. She was an amazing singer and put all that aside to raise us kids as best as she could. Which is certainly better than I could've done. I barely keep my pets alive and my plants routinely wither and die.
So since then, I have developed a weakness for other people's moms. This entry from Lady Bunny's blog really made my Mother's Day a whole lot more fun. Lady Becky is fan-freaking-tastic.
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