life gets heavy
Cheryl Lynn Kopke was my mother. She passed away when I was 5 years old. I am lucky enough to have memories of her, all of which i love. She lived for 28 years. I am uncertain as to in which light i should examine that. Twenty-eight years. Was she happy? What were her favorite things? Vices? I have only been alive for twenty years now, and I feel incredibly lucky to have met the ones i have met, loved those i have loved.
I stride through every day of my life to the beat of my own drum. The day I blindly abandoned my roots and sought what I percieved to be independance I had decided, every day there-after, to repel pain and emotional suffering with adventure, combat anger and evil within myself with love and devotion to others, and shield my friends from the bumpy road in their own lives with outstanding loyalty. I would have the strength of a thousand men in my endevours. I would also largely derrive these qualities from a single image in my heart of my mother smiling and the belief that her and I would have been best friends. That would could've done anything together and it would've been genius. That she could fly, and would have tought me how, but I was just too young.
I got the news the other day that Grandmother Kopke was dying. There are only 3 pieces of my mother left in this world. Myself, my brother, and my Grandmother. In the time it took to process this information I cought a glimpse of myself. While I cartwheeled over every problem, and offered only my tongue in a 'NAHHHH' fashion, I had forgotten that I am part of someone that meant the whole world to my Grandmother. Though as little effort as a simple phone call is all i might have taken I have been utterly non-existant. I stride through every day of my life to the beat of my own drum. Until recently that drum has been perfectly in-time.
you win again asshole
I stride through every day of my life to the beat of my own drum. The day I blindly abandoned my roots and sought what I percieved to be independance I had decided, every day there-after, to repel pain and emotional suffering with adventure, combat anger and evil within myself with love and devotion to others, and shield my friends from the bumpy road in their own lives with outstanding loyalty. I would have the strength of a thousand men in my endevours. I would also largely derrive these qualities from a single image in my heart of my mother smiling and the belief that her and I would have been best friends. That would could've done anything together and it would've been genius. That she could fly, and would have tought me how, but I was just too young.
I got the news the other day that Grandmother Kopke was dying. There are only 3 pieces of my mother left in this world. Myself, my brother, and my Grandmother. In the time it took to process this information I cought a glimpse of myself. While I cartwheeled over every problem, and offered only my tongue in a 'NAHHHH' fashion, I had forgotten that I am part of someone that meant the whole world to my Grandmother. Though as little effort as a simple phone call is all i might have taken I have been utterly non-existant. I stride through every day of my life to the beat of my own drum. Until recently that drum has been perfectly in-time.
you win again asshole