Here I am, a grown man, and my first thought yesterday when the stock market tanked 777 points and we seemed at the edge of the abyss was: "I want my mommy." I wanted to call her on the phone, or better still, stop by the old house and drink a beer and chat and laugh with her. She would have taken this latest crisis, this latest abyss, with a grain of salt. She, and we all, have been through many crises and many hard times before. We would get through this one together. Unfortunately, visiting Mom would have involved a trip to Heaven, and I'm not ready for that leap yet! Mom died December 8th, 2003, and we, my brothers and my sister, have been on our own ever since. We have to pretend to be the peaceful, confident voice: "Yeah, everything will be all right. Don't worry about it. Let's drink a beer."
Salute, slainte to you, Mom. We'll get through this.
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