Chapter 1: Why I’m Writing This

People have asked me wonder why I haven’t said much about my mother’s accident. OK, here it is in a nutshell. She was leaving her shift late at night, pulled onto a four-lane road and was “T-boned” by some drunk asshole driving on the wrong side of the road without his headlights. We were told she died instantaneously and most likely never knew what happened. For the record, that is ALL I’m saying about it.

You might be asking yourself why I’ve been so reluctant to talk about this. First, anyone how knows me knows how close I was to my mother. It just isn’t something to chat about on-line with strangers. Second, it has taken me months to get to a place where I can try writing something like this and I don’t want to reopen wounds that have only started to heal. I would hope that any reasonable person would understand my feelings about this and respect them...

In addition to the obvious reasons, there is another one and that has to do with my pride and self-image. If there is one thing that drives me nuts, it’s how many erotic stories start out with “my mom died” or “my parents divorced when I was little” or something similar. For some reason, the loss of a parent either through death or divorce always seems to lead to incest. It’s like we’re supposed to believe that not having one or more parents drives girls to want to have sex with their fathers, uncles, etc., supposedly to “heal the wounds” or something stupid like that. Take it from someone who has just gone through it. If anything, I have LESS sex with my dad now that my mom is gone. The LAST thing I want to do is try and become some sort of perverted “surrogate” to take the place of my mom. That would dishonor BOTH of my parents and be truly despicable so far as I’m concerned.

Keep in mind that my diary entries mostly involve experiences that had a substantial impact on my life, situations that were instrumental in making me who I am today. Granted, not ALL were 100% GOOD times, but in general I prefer to write about happy memories and thus my diary is slanted in that direction. You can imagine how VERY difficult this one was to write. One thing I want emphasize yet again and that is that this is ALL I’m going to say about the matter. PLEASE, do not ask me anything more about it, OK? Anyone who does will be promptly ignored - no second chances with this one.

Finally, if you have to anything to say to me about my mom, please be respectful. I’m posting this out of my love for her, not to get guys off or to make excuses for any of my past behaviors. Do not even THINK about asking me for a pic of her or to do a tribute to her or anything else like that, OK?.

This Valentine’s Day was the first time my mom wasn’t with my dad and me. My dad took my Aunt Linda and me out for dinner to an expensive steak house downtown. Unfortunately, my cousin Kristen was working. Apparently Valentine’s Day creates a heavy demand for girls like her! My dad gave us both flowers (red roses for me as usual) which reminded me how he use to do the same with me and my mother.

It hit me hard all of sudden. It’s been months since her accident and I was just starting to get to the point where I wasn’t constantly thinking about her when all of my emotions and desires suddenly overflowed once again. When I got home I started writing this, trying to somehow put in word the emotions I was feeling. In reading it over, I failed miserably but I hope some of it comes through.

First, a bit of a biographical information about her. I’ve tried to put together as much as I can remember from what she told me so forgive me if I don’t get everything exactly right or complete. Some of this is in other areas of my diary and I have tried not to repeat too much of it. The idea here is to help you understand her better, not to write a stroke story about her.