Coral’s Healing Room at Coralsblog.com 505-269-9242 iwritetohealmyself@gmail.com I rise early. I go to bed early. If you need me, I will make myself available to you.

Call your mom…

Good evening everyone! I didn’t have much to say this morning and I’m afraid I don’t have a lot more to say this evening. I just wanted to let you know I’m here if you need me. I feel you. The struggle is real. For each of us…the struggle is real.

Today turned out to hurt more than yesterday. I woke up hurting. As I sit here in front of the fire, I am thinking about my mom. I feel her absence. I miss her phone calls. I miss how she smells and how she clicks around in those high heels of hers. I miss the twang in her voice and I even miss the eye rolling. I just miss my mom.

I really want you to hear me. Maybe you’ve an opportunity that I don’t have. Maybe your phone will still dial her number. Maybe you want to call your son? Maybe you don’t and hey good for you…no hope disguised as expectation here. As someone who knows what the end of the fucking road looks like though…I’m just sayin…make the call to whomever, about whatever…or don’t. You can. I can’t. Suit yourself. Truly. People sit around not saying shit about anything to anyone for fear of fucking offending them. What about not saying a damn thing? Now that is fucking offensive. When did we lose our ability to just fucking come with it? Like, hey…I haven’t talked to you in decades and today, well, I figured it was time and so I called. Right on. I mean, right on, right? Me telling you to call your mom because I love you…and you doing it because you love you…that’s a win win right there.

Cancer doesn’t fuck around my friends. Two months and my mom was gone. There is no one on the other end of that phone. There is no one fucking there. Why do I give a shit if you call your mom? Truth? Because of all of the things I have ever lost…my mom hurts me the most. And do you want to know why that is? Look at your mom and you tell me why losing her would hurt you the most. Our moms. We can’t live with them…we bitch about them. Try living the rest of your life without her. Even imagining that fucking hurts, doesn’t it?

That’s all I’ve got. And for those of you like me who can’t call your mom…you can call me. I mean…it’s not the same. I know that. It is something though. I love you. Goodnight.

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