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September 17, 2014
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A tribute to my mother

Isabelle Owens

Drive your daughters an hour back and forth to private high schools. Laugh when they make up words to stupid Britney Spears songs. Hate the 92.7 radio station, but let them listen to it anyway. On your own time, listen to Edith Piaf and Bob Marley. Listen to them while you clean and burn incense at the same time. Laugh when your daughters both say they burn incense and listen to music when they clean now too.

Have a hard time when they go to college. Get divorced. Have a rough few years because you’ve forgotten how to live independently. Like, have a really, truly rough few years. Lean on friends too hard, lose a few along the way. Lean on one daughter too hard, lose another daughter along the way. Continue to reach out to them; always have the space you live in ready for holidays and home-cooked dinners. Be weak—be human. Battle alcoholism and ultimately lose. Know that the memories you left and early foundation you set ensure your daughters will love you no matter what. Leave behind a canyon of good and bad. Be loved endlessly and rest easy.