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Friday, April 2, 2021

A sobering end of the week...

Eighty-five years ago today, my mother, Mary Jane Autin Thiac, was born in Charity Hospital, New Orleans LA. She passed on December 17, 2020. 

Over the years, the passing of my parents was something always on the back of my head. I've always put it off, not wanting to contemplate it, but knowing it was coming, at some point. And as painful as it is, it is much preferable to the opposite. It's right a child bury a parent, that the parent pass before their offspring. I would not wish burying a child on my worst enemy. 

A fear I had over the years as a cop was the worse thing. And my mother having to deal with that nightmare. Not trying to be overly noble, but my grandmother buried all three of her daughters before she passed (her two sons passed within two years of Momee passing) and again, that's something no human should have to endure. At least Mom won't deal with that. 

Dealing with complicated relationships, like adult children and their parents, is challenging. My parents and I were no different. But Mike and the Mechanics' classic The Living Years is a soothing song to contemplate this matter. 

I'm heading to work in a few hours, so I wait to have a drink for Mom when I get home. Happy Birthday Mom, I love you.

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