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i think abt my mother every day. since her awful death from the horrid c word 2 summers ago, she now shows up regular, vibrant, healthy, in my sleep dreams. it makes the act of sleeping / waking a practice of intense “adult” complexity now. trying 2 accept it…. i wish i cld explain how rough her life was…. but this is not the place…. or mayb it is…. i cant decide…… lately, when i feel my lowest abt it, i think abt her father, my grandfather. his mother died tragically when he was 3. his father left him and his brother, never to return, as orphans when he was 4. and he ws still one of the sweetest men ive ever known…. always had a smile for me. so surely i can keep it/piece it 2gether….. at the same time mayb u dont miss/ache/cry 4 what u cant remember?