It was almost exactly 1 year ago that Mom was admitted to the hospital for what turned out to be unsuccessful chemotherapy. Everyone hoped for a cure, but in fact she lived for only another four months. There was less than six months between when the first symptoms showed up and her passing
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I love it that you're keeping the gardens up. That's truly love for her.
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On the issue of being a successful person, in my more down moments I have a difficult time envisioning myself - a 31 year old perpetually single guy still living at home with his dad and working only part time - as being successful under any reasonable definition of that word. However, I usually have enough perspective to see that this is only part of the story, and that I have been successful in some ways, and that mentally beating up on myself as a matter of habit is almost guaranteed to make me less successful, not more.
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