Should I blog about Mom?

I'm not sure when to blog about Mom. I feel like Mom's passing has given me writer's block, a slight taste of depression, but mostly a highball glass full of anger.

There's a very good chance I'll spend the next 90 minutes writing and thinking, and then I'll delete it anyway.

***

Just the facts: the coroner chose "atherosclerotic cardiovascular disease" as Mom's cause of death. Google it, and let me know what it says.

Not a fact: Pretty sure 90 ounces of Coca-Cola everyday, a bad sleep schedule and a lousy diet didn't help. But I'm not a doctor.

Dad's passing killed Mom seven years ago. It just took her this long to mount enough of an attack on her own constitution to finally succumb to sweet, sweet death.

Rest in peace, Mom.

***

When Dad passed, I felt honored to write about him in the past tense, like he went out on his shield. It was merciful. It was OK. It was over.

With Mom, I feel like I owe everyone an apology. Not sure who all still reads this blog (Mom didn't) but I'd like to say sorry to you, about the way everything went down.

These last several years have been really confusing, regarding my mom. But she was my mom.

***

It should be noted that I'm listening to Rage Against the Machine. But no, I have not consumed any Maker's Mark. But I did bring a bottle of Maker's Mark home from Mom's house.

***

It's a little over two weeks in now. There is one thing that I understand better now, since Mom has passed: I have wonderful friends.

From my wife, who has been the picture of positivity in order to help me, to friends like the Abasolos, Bauers, Nunns, Stoltman, Roberts, Richard, la familia, the neighbors...

My kids, Evey and Boyd, are the best.

Boyd won't remember his maternal grandmother. But he's doing a good job of being warm to me when I walk in the house after a trip to Mulvane.

I will clothesline him soon.

***

You know what's killing me? Evey has been reading the blog lately. She'll read this, if I don't delete it.

Evey is so sweet. I think her biggest concern though this whole thing? Is seeing me struggle a bit, and she's worried about me.

She's so sweet!

***

One thing that really makes me mad is I'm 39, and both my parents are passed.

But whoa is me — maybe I need to finally grow up.

***

Good night. I'll read this tomorrow, see if I leave it up.