I wrote this on a day when all that has gone before in the past year got just a bit too much to bear. Lost Daddy last January, Mykel died in August; in November, after she fractured two ribs, we received the news that Mama has only a short time before her Parkinson's and essential tremor take her weight down to a fatal limit; she fell again shortly after her birthday and fractured her left hip. I am strong, but there are times when I wish I could just let everyone else handle things.

GRIEF
I am hollow, empty,
Filled with aching pain.
Tears fill my eyes;
I cannot weep.
Screams fill my throat;
They must be swallowed.
I want to crumble;
I must be strong.
Why always me?
My shoulders sag.
Dark comes soon;
let it out.

And so it begins . . .

I joined a writer's group and figured I needed a place to keep my ramblings. Blogging seems to be the thing to do these days so . . . here I go.

"She Cleaned Up Green" and "Memories of a Queen" are scrambling around in my head and my hope is that this group will help me to get organized and be my sounding board. I've had a couple of false starts, one of which was lost when the flash drive died, and I have a ton of old pictures, letters, cards, etc., from centuries past that need to be incorporated one way or the other.

Wish me luck?

Mumsy