the may maelstrom
on navigating Mother's Day while grieving
May always feels like such a juxtaposition for me. As I watch things grow, blossom, and bloom every day, I also feel the grinding and enduring decay of death, the shadow, and the unchanging. May is when I have to be careful to take care of myself, otherwise Mother's Day sneaks up on me and hits me like a sack of bricks.
You see, I'm the daughter of a dead mom.
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