On the road again: Portland, day 4
I'm way past crispy, and I have to get up to shower and head to the airport well before sunrise, so I'm going to keep this short. I could best describe today as work, work, more work, work, a little work, and some more work, with some work for dessert.
The only non-work part of the day was a delightful dinner at Le Pigeon. Today I met a fellow foodie who to my surprise didn't care for this restaurant, but my meal was excellent, and Le Pigeon remains one of my all-time favorite places to eat.
Today would have been my mother's eighty-first birthday. I wish she was still alive. I miss her terribly. I expect I always will, but for no particular reason, I feel the loss acutely today. It took me years to tell her that I loved her, and then I did it by rote at the end of each call for several years before her death. I'd give a lot to get to say it to her one more time, with real feeling, so maybe I could erase her constant insecurity that I didn't really love her. As a parent, I deeply understand that insecurity, but for her it was unnecessary; I did love her, more than I could tell her, more than I ever did tell her.
I love you, Mom.
4 comments:
wonderful post
Thanks.
She knows and she's watching over you all the time.
Perhaps you are right. I do not know.
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