Other things

I have a million other things that I should be doing right now, but I really feel that I need to write this story right now. It is not to toot my own horn or anything like that. Neither is this a story to degrade my mom. Don't judge, everyone has their own demons.

A little less than four years ago, my Aunt Louise passed away. She was a good lady and is sorely missed. Her funeral was held in Benson/Pomerene, about an hour from Thatcher. Jason and Velika had come up Friday night, we were all planning on driving down together.

I remember waking up the morning of the funeral and laying in bed thinking about family members that I would see and being excited to see everyone. Yes, it was a funeral and a subdue occasion, but I can lie, I was looking forward to it. As I laid there, a feeling came over me that if I went to the funeral, my mother would not be a live when we got home. It was not a passing thought or something I could put aside. I knew.

I went down stairs and my Dad asked me why I wasn't getting ready, I told him of the impression that I had and he said that he had been having the same feeling. I didn't go. I wish I could have, but I was needed at home.

My mom got mad at me. She said she didn't need a babysitter, that she wasn't even thinking about that when she wanted to stay home. You know what? I believe her, I do not think she would have intentionally taken her life that day. But knowing what I know, if she would have been home alone that day, she wouldn't have been alive when we got home.

I love my mother, I hope she knows that.