A month later

I suppose that this time passing and everyday being a microthin film that layers over events and tragedies and joys is normal. Either that or its some kind of ruse that we all subscribe to. I can't understand time. I get these impulses to call my mom or share something with her to cheer her up. Just because its July now and not May or last October means that she's gone and that tomorrow is another day further from her last. Thanks to all for the comments about my mom and her life. I think about her everyday and most miss her infectious laughter, so ready to burst out uncontrollably with racuous tears, red face and aching sides.