I came out yesterday. To my mother. I think at our ages (45 and 65 respectively) we are mature enough, worldly enough, and close enough to share this place. I won’t hold back anything. I will still be me.

I feel confident I have nothing to hide. I am who I am. I mean sure, there was that time I called her a hypochondriac and all, but HEY, my brother and one of my daughters are hypochondriacs too and it doesn’t diminish my love and respect for them one tiny bit!

I have always been a bit reserved with my family. And maybe a bit afraid that they would think me too kooky or flighty. But I am confident in who I am now and who we are as a family. I also have confidence in them to take what I write here for what it is meant. A creative outlet. Not black and white. Not always serious. Not meant to be hurtful. It is just what I see, feel or think at one moment and is highly subject to change in the next five minutes.

If she doesn’t run screaming from the Den immediately and sticks around and (gulp) starts commenting….she is going to need a super secret internet name. Any suggestions?

EDITED: Before I could share this with you, my dear mother jumped in with both feet and made a comment on the previous post. It is so touching and heartbreaking, I wish to share it here. As an introduction to my mom. Who said “I don’t share, but I left you a message.” I told her this is a safe place. A wondrous place of support and love. A community. Here is her entry, a little message from a mom/grama/great-grama at home on Easter Eve with no family at her house for the first time:

The eggs are cooked, the dye is fizzing. The crayons and egg dippers, carefully placed on the egg dying tablecloth. Droplets on my cheek, is it raining? Where are the kids. I can’t find the kids.

I think she can share and share beautifully. Now you get a little idea where my writing talent comes from. So help me come up with a super secret internet name for her?

Have a blessed Easter Morning.

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