Mother’s Day brings out a longing in my soul that seems to have migrated to my bones this year and more arthritic crystals are being formed I am sure of it.  I can feel them forming, building, increasing, and hurting.  Apropos I guess.  Longing morphing into pain-full pockets tired of floating loose and unconnected through the cosmos or through the soul or for that matter through my body.  The longing needed a home.  A base at least from which to continue to inform me of my loss-es. 




on a day meant to observe and recognize the special caregiver in our lives – good old mom. 

sorry about that.  not really. 

My longing.  My pain-full pockets of arthritic emotions. 

Real stuff.