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My mother passed away eight months ago.

I was holding her hand when she went.

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And now I’m writing a book about my life — a book that goes straight through her. Through the choices she made. Through the things she allowed to happen to me. Through the years I spent trying to forgive her for it and the years I spent failing at that.

I feel like I’m betraying her.

I know that’s not rational. I know if she were here right now she would look at me and say go ahead and write it, honey. I know that. I feel it. She would mean it.

But she’s not here to say it. And I’m writing it anyway. Into the silence where she used to be.

That’s the part that guts me.

There’s something else happening underneath all of this that I haven’t told anyone.

I don’t think I have a lot of time left.

Not tomorrow. Not next week. I’m not saying that. I’m saying I feel something — a closing of distance between two points in my life that have always been moving toward each other.

Years ago I was in a car, sick and dying, riding down Melrose where it turns to Vine. My stomach caved in on itself. Everything went quiet. And two thoughts came, one right after the other, both of them completely calm:

So this is how it’s going to happen.

And then: It’s okay.

I made it. A stolen ten dollars from a stripper got me a cab home from the hospital. That’s a true story.

But the man in that car — the one who was ready, who felt the peace of it — he’s still in me somewhere. And I feel him getting closer to the man I am now. Not with dread. More like two old friends who haven’t seen each other in a long time, walking toward each other across a wide open space.

I see you. I’m coming.

So I’m writing the book. All of it. And I’m not going to soften it. Not the cult. Not the streets. Not Hollywood. Not her. The cleansing is the book — there’s no other way through. You go into the fire or you don’t come out clean.

I don’t know how much time two old friends have when they finally meet again.

I’m using what I have.

— Neon​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

If you made it to the end,

Thank you,

this one means a lot to me so share it with anyone.

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