I went to bed yesterday morning (since I work overnights; not because I was out boozing *cough*) thinking about my mother.
I am not usually a praying man. I am confused about my beliefs in God and an afterlife, but for whatever reason, I found myself talking to the universal force a lot of people ask things of.
I wasn’t asking for money, or a promotion, or a new car, or a new house; but, for some strange reason, the safety of my mother.
At 3:07p.m. I received a frantic phone call from my sister; mom had been in a car accident.
(As an aside; this kind of thing happens to me a lot. Unexplained feelings that tie events together later, in some strange way, but I digress.)
My mom is ok. Knocked her head pretty good, but physically fine, unfortunately, though, she lost her job and might not be able to work ever again (as its diabetic related).
Know what? I don’t fucking care about that in the least. She’s ok. Fuck jobs and money and all that other horseshit. Thanksgiving came early this year, for us. We’re together, safe, and mostly happy.
In the end, I believe that’s all one can ask for.
