Reblogged from THOUSAND THOUGHTS:
When I was little, my mom cried a lot. I would find her in the basement behind the water heater and the flower press, crying. It was terrifying to see her crying, but there was an intimacy in sitting with her as she did. Those were emotional days. There was a lot going on. My mom was pregnant, working full time, and taking care of my brother and I.
I love to cry. Although ashamed at times, you have to just let it go, and cry. Miss him, every day, until you've cried him out of your mind and heart.