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Pastimes : Calling all SI Poets

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To: epicure who wrote (2)12/11/1999 12:43:00 AM
From: Bill on the Hill  Read Replies (1) of 2095
 
Mom loved rainy days. I know that she would love today. My soul is raining.

It snowed and the wind blew today at the top. The cold winter wind was like a knife as it cut through my coat to my skin. The flakes of snow blew in my face and made my eyes sting. The tears on my cheeks froze as they rolled from my eyes.

I thought I knew what grieving was. I thought a broken heart when I lost my first girlfriend was grief. I thought when I divorced that I felt grief. I remember the feeling when my grandfather died. He was my mentor, hero, friend. He was nine feet tall and lit a room when he walked in. I thought I grieved when he died. These tears falling are grief. This longing is grief.

Mama is gone. A part of her is here with me on this this mountain. I am at the top of my world. From where I stand I face east and it is downhill to the Mississippi. I face west and I can almost see and feel the mighty Pacific. My mother brought me into this world. I am a contradiction of thoughts. I love the east and live in the west. My mother had thoughts that covered the world and embraced the spirit of the world. She had a heart that could hold the world. She had a lap that could hold me. I love my mom, I miss my mom.

To the east I give my mother. To the west I give my mother.

Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust.
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