One of the lovely gifts that going through menopause has brought to my life is the new ability to sweat. Not glisten, not perspire, just plain old good honest sweat. The kind that makes you feel as though you could cook a fried egg on your more than adequate belly and heat up a pizza under your left boob. I can remember playing an entire racquetball game years ago and feeling a bit ‘damp’ around the collar, I used to actually COMPLAIN that I wished I could sweat….
Today is a poignant day in my life. It marks the second year of the day my mother died. It’s hard to be funny today, something almost disrespectful in trying to be amusing.
I know many of you have lost your mothers, or your fathers, or both. Some of you may have even lost them when you were young. I know I am fortunate in that I had my mother until I was 54 years old.