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About This Author
I am a 40 year old married mother of two teenage boys. I live for writing, especially romance. Love the happily ever after scenerio. The best thing about writing for me is the ability to lose yourself in your work, and feel as if you've accomplished something great. At the end of the day, that's all that really matters.
The Waiting Game
#623653 added December 10, 2008 at 6:37pm
Restrictions: None
Whispers...
Today has been a total emotional day. My sister had surgery this morning, but things went well. Mike is having a hernia operation tomorrow. I just had to ask what Decemeber would bring.

My day with Andi is postponed for a second time, but that I can deal with. Fighting with a friend here and that is not the highlight of my day.

My cousin called, and I haven't talked to her since Grandpa's funeral back in September. I am saddened to learn that she isn't doing so well. We've always lived some distance from one another. And talking to her tonight, I realize how wrong we all were over the years. See, Kelly's dad was murdered when I was 5 and she was 3. Her parents were divorced, and she'd come and spend a week with us at Christmas and during the summer. When we buried our Grandfather, she saw her father's and grandmother's graves for the very first time. She didn't know much about him, his life, his death. Michael was the dirty word never spoken. How friggin sad is that? And so unfair. My heart breaks for her, and I can't believe how thoughtless we've all been by never speaking of the man she desereved to know about. She knows nothing of his life, his death, what kind of man he was. And she doesn't know much about her grandmother either. I am filling in gaps, and I realize that I don't know enough myself. I can say that he made me a rocking chair, one that I still have to this day.

Why do we as people tend to not speak of the bad things that happen in life? Do they not help to shape the people we become? Of course they do. My Uncle Michael died, stepping in at a party to protect a friend and lost his life. The man who killed him never paid, no one ever came forward. This happened in 1974, and there is no closure. And today, we still have questions, and I think there will always be unanswered questions. Not talking about things does not make them go away. They linger. They wait. And when the are pushed to the forefront, what are we left with. Uncertainty. Sadness. Doubt. Questions, quesitons and more questions.

I have always been rather blunt, not bothered by it, and I tend to get myself into trouble, but I can live with that. So this is a heads up. Questions are coming your way, expect them, and answer them. Only when we have these answers will we have peace, and then Michael will no longer be the dirty word, but the man that he was, the one we loved, the one who deserves to be remembered fondly by our family.

Know that I love you all, you are always in my thoughts and prayers, no matter what.

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