I used to get angry looking for Mother's Day cards. None reflected my reality. Complex and conflicted. That was my relationship with Mom. Quite dramatically, near the end of her life, I had a huge, emotional download. I was anxious and driven. I could not stop the words, scribbling on scraps of paper, restaurant napkins, crying into a digital recorder. Once, I hid in the bathroom to dictate my poetry, not wanting to worry my already alarmed husband. As my Mother's health began to decline, I chose to share most of these poems with her. Their effect on both of us, the understandi
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