Last Tuesday I woke up and lay there about ten minutes, as is my wont in the morning if I visited the bathroom several times during the “wee” hours.
I lay there thinking about moms I know. It occurred to me I hadn’t seen my mom for several weeks.
I swear I lay there searching my brain for the last conversation or phone call I’d had with Mom, worrying that Mom was feeling neglected. Just as I was thinking “Gotta call Mom right now,” I remembered she died thirteen years ago.
I totally forgot my Mom died thirteen years ago. So I guess healing takes thirteen years.