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.