Every time I try to write this it comes out like a poem…. Word to ya mother, yo.

My mother, the long suffering, oft embarrassed lady she is…. I didn’t do it on purpose you know. Making you cringe with each curse word (An aside: I find curse words ridiculous and arbitrary- Who says shit is bad in the US and bloody as curse in the UK) and too loud talking. But do not fear. I’m a big girl now, making mistakes of my own, as scary as that is. I know-I have a daughter myself. But I know I raised a smart, self-sufficient, driven young lady, just like you did. In the immortal words of Bob Marley- Don’t you worry, about a thing. Cuz every little thing gonna be alright.

I may not be rich, but I am not poor. I may work hard, but I love my work. It may not always be easy, but I am happy. I have a husband that loves me. I have brilliant, fun, loving children and I would like to think I had something to do with that (ok sure, their dad helped). Most of all, I learned Keith Richards was right (I must have music on the brain)- You can’t always get what you want, but if you try, sometimes, you just might get what you need.

Love,

Me

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