25 years ago today I held a morphine suppository in my mother’s body for 5 minutes, waiting for it to dissolve. My mother, Mary, died later that day, wheezing and incoherent, after her long bout with cancer.
21 years ago today I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. We named her Marjorie Mae.
21 years ago today I shared a maternity room with a horrible woman-child who had just given birth to a little girl. That baby was born into a ‘family’ (I use the term loosely) of her ‘unfortunately incarcerated’ father and immature, self-centered ‘mother’. (I seriously considered kidnapping that poor child.)
Jori never met her Grandma Mary, for which I still grieve.
Jori never experienced the dysfunctional ‘family’ of my roommate’s child, for which I still thank the gods.