Mom: I Always Knew I’d Miss You . . .
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Mom, I guess I did know when I stood on this same porch all those years ago, and I took commemorative photos in the yard July 25, 1990, I would never live at this address or in the same town as you for the rest of my life. I guess I had somehow thought I’d counted the cost of spreading my wings and taking flight. Your 23 plus years preceding that moment — of loving me, teaching me, chiding me, disciplining me, laughing with me, and guiding me had attempted to prepare me for whatever I’d face once I stepped off that porch as a full time resident of your home. I guess I thought I was ready for the many years of phone calls, cards you learned to make yourself, occasional surprise care packages, short visits to wherever I’d moved to next, and the ever-heart-in-my-throat moments with my bladder fairly bursting as I always made those last 100 or so miles to your house at breakneck speed, because I couldn't bear to make another potty stop when I knew the Louisville