Yes, I'm still here, alive and kicking. Well, walking, for sure, with a painful foot: Morton's neuroma and hammer toe. The pair makes for a lovely foot.
I can't even remember when I last wrote something here.
April is the month when I feel especially weepy and vulnerable. It's the month when my mother was born, and 67 years later suffered and died. My dad always says: 'my Ana went out, like a candle." That candle took away the  light from my life and left me in darkness for a long while. Even now, almost  13 years later, I feel the absence of that warm light. Most acutely. But I carry her in me, and still, every night before falling asleep I wish her a good night, telling her that I love her, that I forgave her, and beg her to forgive me. I lost her just when we started being friends, not just a mother and daughter. Life's like that - a box of bloody chocolates. Of the bitter kind.