Mother’s Day is still difficult for me – I’m flooded with memories of my dear mother, snatched away on July 4, 1998. It took me about five years before I was able to stand in front of a card display and not break down weeping. I’d make my daughter-in-law cards on my computer so I didn’t have to face the public wall of happy greetings. I occasionally get caught in the grip of grief again (it never goes away, just morphs into a dull ache) and have to fake a smile when the kids have me over for brunch – Mother’s Day is for the living, after all. Sometimes I’ll sift through the bins of photos I’ve stored for decades. There were more happy…

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