Book- Mom 2

( Place on page 253- para 6..before para 'they say..")

By now I had worked out  a routine in the mornings to get ready for work without Mom's help. But there was one particular morning  in September  after Mom died that I struggled. Everything seemed to go wrong. I slept later because I was so tired. I rushed to get washed, rushing to get done before the van came to pick me up.

I couldn't button my dress shirt that morning, no matter how hard I tried. My hands couldn't touch my own shoulders because of my OI. So often I had to hold one end of the shirt with my mouth as I tried to button the other end with a shaky hand. The more I tried the more the shirt slipped and I had to start over. The button would clasp the buttonhole then slip out. Again and again I tried.

It took all the energy I had to try again. My hands cramped up.I started breathing deeply. My frustration built. I started crying, yelling "I can't do it anymore! to no one. "Help me, Mom..."

I took a few moments to get myself together, taking slow deep breaths. I did the best I could with my  wet shirt, finally hooking the buttons together. Exhausted,   I felt like calling into work and going back to bed on this rainy,  cool, dreary morning.

Instead I grabbed a jacket, locked the front door, wheeled outside, met my van and went to work. "Don't give up and don't give in," I whispered to myself over and over again  as we pulled away from the lifeless house.