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What a difference a day makes...

Yesterday was a hard one. I fought melancholy and intermittent tears off and on all day. I think it was sadder because of eight weeks at home. No activity to distract me from my emotions. But another Mother's Day is behind me. And it's almost funny how even that makes me feel lighter. 



This is me ... pulling my hair back and vowing to run my race in victory. I'm back to overcoming and moving forward thoughts today. None of us ever know how close we may be to the finish. But I'm focused on keeping my pace and moving in the right direction. I appreciate the loving words I received yesterday while I was feeling low.

My mom was 49, and I was 28 when I lost her. I don't "hate" Mother's Day. In fact, I love seeing mothers being celebrated by their children. But the day has always been a reminder of all the years I missed out on with my own mom. Years that I am sure would have been filled with new discoveries about each other, including our similarities. I bel…

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