Death & Reckonings

I’m being told that change can’t come without grief.

Change was my middle name when I was a child…

Pretty sure both of my parents would understand me writing about change as I work on a memoir (of sorts).

Or not: My parents were teens when they married and became parents. Instant-adults. Sans prep from their elders, stubbornness became their motto.

‘You’ve always known more than me,’ my mother said to her 4 grown girls. ‘I rely on you for advice,’ she said. She didn’t mean it. I wish she had.

Because I would have asked her to not only listen to her family, but act on our advice.

Truthfully: I begged her to consider suggestions/pleas/proposals. pleasepleaseplease

Truthfully: screw the grief, change can’t come without reckonings. Nope. Not possible.

Truthfully? Shedidthebestshecould (I mutter when driving alone)



Mother of 4, Oxford, England: 1971-ish









About PB Rippey

Writer, wife, mother, activist, fortunate.
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Words do not escape you

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