Although I started WordWebbing for business, I will be cross-posting some of my personal blog here. Not tonight — I am about as beat as a person can get.
Death is such a touchy subject for many people, but my mother and I have a unique relationship. We’re weird, quirky, irreverent and we consider ourselves two of the funniest bitches on the planet. We’ve talked about Death extensively, and we are cool. We are cool.
She’s the strongest person I have ever known. EVER. My first grandbaby, her first great-grandbaby, is due to be born in 44 days, but she won’t make it to that. However, her goal was to make it to the shower this Sunday, and that, friends and neighbors, she will make. She has willed it so. After the shower, she’s going home.
I told her — you’ve put up quite the fight, old woman. You’ve about wore the Grim Reaper out. I bet he goes home at night, grumpy and frazzled. I can see him walking in the door, and from the look on his face, the wife knows he’s had a bad day.
“Hi, Honey. Bad day?” she says.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” He growls.
“Oh. Audrey again, huh?”
“I said — I DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT. Gimme a beer.”
Heh. Momma found that hilarious.
Anyway. Very tired, and it’s not over yet. I will update soon — thanks to all for the good wishes and love pouring over us. I’m overwhelmed.
Because there needs to be more hugs.