August 16, 2018 9:02 PM. Perhaps whatever I write is what I imagine. My mother died yesterday. I didn’t imagine that. It really happened. As I was walking this morning to get some exercise, I was thinking “This is the first day of my life of 66 years that my mother is not alive on planet earth.” I feel like crying as I write this; but, I don’t actually cry. I just have the feeling. I imagine I’m like a car with a starter that isn’t quite powerful enough to “turn over the engine.” I remember my dad using that expression one winter when, for several cold mornings in a row, he had trouble starting his station wagon to take us to school. I can’t remember if the problem was a dying battery or dying starter. I just remember that in a few days he got the problem fixed and the car was starting in the morning like it was supposed to. Some times I do weep real tears. And I thank God that I have feelings. And feeling like crying actually feels sweet. I often listen to music that makes me feel like crying. The song, “What Now My Love” makes me feel that way. I imagine that love songs “touch my heart.”

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