I mention Patrick Rothfuss because on Mother's Day he wrote a post that touched me. This link will take you to it but the end, which I am going to paste here? This is why I started this blog. He started the post with a conversation he had with his son about his deceased mom and then goes into a conversation with a friend who lost someone dear. This is the ending:
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“I can’t believe nobody ever talks about this,” she said. “I mean people have bad breakups, and you know how to handle it because you’ve heard about their breakups. But nobody talks about people dying. There’s no script for something like this.”
“It’s a real taboo,” I said. “Not one of the silly little play taboos like sex, things we aren’t supposed to talk about and we do anyway. Real taboos are things nobody even thinks of talking about.”
“Somebody should talk about them,” she said.
“Somebody should,” I agreed.
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So here we are.
Generally speaking, when I think about something a lot, I write about it on the blog. Its one of the ways I figure out how I really feel about things. It helps me keep my head screwed on straight.
But the one exception has always been my mom.
I think about her all the time, but I rarely ever tell stories about her.
And you know what? That’s a f*** shame. Because my mom was awesome.
So we’re fixing that. Soon.
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