“I don’t want the doctor’s death. I want to have my own freedom.”

Well Mom, after last year I thought about this date nearly everyday for the past two months; memory be dammed, it’s going to be on time today.

You know, there is something that I want to write about you, something rather … complex, for lack of a better word. But it’s not quite there yet — not quite ready for public consumption. But it’s close. I started to write it several days ago, but it’s meh.

So in the meantime, let me just say what I always say: eighteen years may have past, but I still love you and I still miss you; you are gone, but never forgotten, as long as I draw breath.