Momma's Momma. Again.

I finally called my Momma back. I knew she needed to chat and, dammit, I should have done it sooner.


She’s still dealing with incredible bouts of pain from her rheumatoid arthritis. She doesn’t want to take her pain pills (recovering alcoholic – afraid of addictive behavior). She’s depressed. She’s low on funds.

She’s hurting and I can’t be there and that hurts me.

Sure I can send money. And I can make her laugh til she pees (I mean, who do you think I learned it from?) But I can’t be there to hug her. Or rub her knee or her wrist. Or just hold her if all she wants to do is sleep.

I hate being in the position to NEED to comfort my own Momma, but hate worse that I can’t physically be there.

So I’ll be sending her love and laughter across the miles. And sending one up to the big Guy in the Sky. If you’d be so kind, and believe in some sort of God, I’d appreciate a helpful thought for my Momma. We call her Ju Ju.

MoochAhhsssGrahhssyAhhss.