I am a Mama’s boy, I always have been. I didn’t have the chance to be a Daddy’s boy, so I stuck close to my Mama. She taught me what it meant to work hard, to be yourself, to make sacrifices, to live your own life, to love unconditionally, to love from a distance, to accept people as they are, to be compassionate towards everybody, to be guarded of the treasure that is me, to laugh and cry and dance, to be in awe of the small and large things in life, to make a family out of the people close by, to believe in the unseen, to believe in the power of prayer, to believe in spirits, to lend a hand to people without the exchange of money, and to be honest and hard-working no matter what day of the week it is.

My mother, Sheri Lynn Moore, was forced to play the role of both mother and father- which in turn made her a heavy handed mother who was more tough than tender. I am grateful for that, because I have come to believe that nature is more tough than tender. And I am just another being in this great natural order.

My mother died from cancer when she was fifty-six years old. She would be sixty-six this year. Retired, hopefully traveling to all of the places in Europe she dreamed of visiting. Her life was cut short, and I don’t really know why but I often wonder. Was it the dozens of cremes, powders, chemical cleaners, hair dyes, and other chemicals in her bathroom? Was it the smoking in her youth? Or the poor living in trailers, campers, and old apartments with its asbestos laden tiles, old paints, shitty carpets and such? Was it the wireless signals from the phones, internet, and other such weird oddities? I know it wasn’t the vaccines, because she didn’t get them! I am not sure if I will ever know what caused her to get lung cancer, so I try not to wonder. But I know that I miss her, and that my kids never got to meet her, and that my wife never got to meet her, and I wish she was here every single day because she would love to a grandmother to these kids. I force myself to believe that she is with me, watching over me and my family, teaching them through me- some days it’s easier than others.

Mom, I just want you to know- I miss you every single day. I want to call you when things are great and invite you over to watch Michael, Phenomenon, and Field of Dreams when I’m feeling down. I was a Mama’s boy when you were alive, and I still am. You set the bar high for mothers, and I married a woman who is just as good of a mother as you were. I know you didn’t always make the right decisions and that you regretted some of the things you did and said, but I’ve finally come to understand how challenging it can be to be a full-time parent without any breaks and I forgive you a thousand times. You did a damn good job raising two crazy, hard-headed sons and I thank you for that.

Happy Birthday!

*Caption for Cover Photo:
This was a very strange family photo that I came across yesterday. My mother was 41 years old at that time, the exact same age that I am now. She married the man in blue, Victor Stern, a year prior. He was doing life in prison (and still is) in the same prison where my brother was serving time. I was a sixteen year old kid at the time, clueless as to which path I was walking down.