I shuffled through my closet today and pulled out boxes of my mom's stuff. As I filled my room with dusty memories, my heart grew heavy. All I could think was that I had bit off more than I could chew. The piece I wanted to start my blog off was an introduction that she had written called "Tiger's are so seldom." But so far I can't find it and now I feel that everything will be out of order. I started reading a diary that she had started in 1964. But like all good intentions of New Year Resolutions it only lasted perhaps a week. How excited and then disappointed I felt at hearing her words of a new year and a hope for a better year than the one previous. Isn't that what we all hope for year after year. But how will I know if it was or wasn't? She didn't finish writing and I am left with more questions than answers.
My mom has been gone now for 5 years this June. I am hoping I am at a place now that I can I write and remember her without this deep yearning. But now my room is as cluttered as my thoughts. How can I possibly sort through all of this to make sense and semblance of a life once lived? How can I preserve her memory from tiny bits and pieces of ideas she wrote here and there and since have been stuffed in a box? So my lesson today is we should try to finish what we start for if we don't one day someone else will have to and they might feel TOO OVERWHELMED.
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