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.