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Mother’s Day and My Mom’s Birthday

Today was an emotionally sad day for me. It was not only mothers day, but would have also been my mom’s 82nd birthday. Nearly 9 years after she passed away and I still miss her every single day. Out of everyone, my mom was the one who most encouraged me to believe in my dream of being a writer and supported everything that could bring me closer to that goal.

I had already struggled with depression for years as a caregiver, so it was a short fall into a deep dark hole when, at the same time that I was mourning the loss of my mom, my work took a sharp blow because of the economic collapse. That threw my writing career into a sharp dive and, with so much work needed to repair the damage to my career as a writer, I was unable to recover and ended up setting aside my writing to take care of other things. First my father, when the demands of being his caregiver increased significantly, then after he passed away two years later everything I had went into trying to save the home where I had lived for nearly 20 years. That, too, ended in loss and a rather dark deep depression.

Things have not been very easy over the intervening years, life seeming determined to not let me get my feet back on stable ground, but recently I have taken a strong step towards putting it all back on track. I have enrolled in a class on writing a series and am working toward finding my way out of the rut into which I have found my life over the past half a dozen years. It is my goal that I will have things back on track by my mom’s next birthday and be able to, once again, say that I am making a living as a writer – just as she always wanted me to be able to do.

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