Crying Day

My Mom

Spring, 1979

Some days are just sad days for me.  I wake up and can't shake the feeling.  

I pray.  I talk about it.  I reflect on good memories.  But no matter what I do, some days are just sad days.  

Today was one of those days.  I woke up aching to call my mom and talk to her.  It started off with something as simple as wanting to tell her about The Hunger Games.  I finished reading the first book last week while I was sick, and I really enjoyed it.  She loved young adult literature and sci-fi, so I know she would have really liked the book too.  I could just imagine the conversation we would have about it over lunch at our favorite spot-- Nikkellette's Cafe.  We would talk about our favorite parts, why we identified with the main character, which scenes surprised us, and how we could compare it to today's society.  We could have some seriously good conversations about books.

Today something as silly as a book got me thinking about her.  And missing her.  And something inside me just hurt really, really bad.  

So I cried a lot today.  

That's just the kind of day it was.