No Clever Title

Last night I missed my Mom for the first time since her death last August.

I’ve thought about her since she died, but I just never really had a moment where I missed her presence. Last night I had a dream where her and I were just sitting in our old kitchen at the table and talking. I can’t even remember what about, just that she called me “Jas” which is what she always called me. No one but her and a few other members of my family have used that name.

I woke up from the dream sad, and missing her, and it’s been on my mind since then.

Since both of my parents’ death last year I really just haven’t thought about it very much. I was never much of a family guy; we stayed in touch, but I wasn’t like a lot of people who talk to their parents every day or whatever.

I’ve had a few moments in the past year where the realization that my parents are gone has hit me and it came out of nowhere. I’ll be thinking about my future, usually, and I’ll think “I’ll never get to introduce someone to my parents again.” and that kills me. It’s such a mundane, and selfish thing, but it’s such a major part of life and it’s gone.

My Mom used to make fried dough, which is exactly what it sounds like, for a snack sometimes. Now and then when I was a kid, and for the last time during our family reunion in Orlando. I made some tonight for myself and thought about her.

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