I want to leave with you, so we can build a desert garden.

Sep 15, 2005 13:06

I need a summer but the sun has come and gone. I need a summer but it's winter in my heart.

Happy birthday, mother; rest in peace.

Today my mother would have been forty-eight. She was born in 1957 in Oklahoma; she was raised in Seattle, Washington and lived in Temecula, California after her adolescence. She had a bachelor's degree in psychology and worked for the Borg-Warner corporation in Temecula in the human resources department. She met my father in 1980. They married in 1983. I am her only child; she had two step-daughters: Brandi Baker and Kristi Keats. She sculpted and painted. In fact, she was teaching me how to sculpt around the time she died. I haven't tried since. My mother had dark brown hair, it looked black. She had very light blue eyes. She was thin, 5'8", and died of an aneurism in 1995.

I need to hold you but you're never coming back.
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