1937

The bumbling, stumbling group of seven returned home from working at the mines one night to find their greasy, grimy, small cottage was Spic and Span... thankfully, Spic and Span was invented in 1933, but whointheheck could have done the cleaning of the cottage?

For a moment Happy stopped laughing about whatever he was laughing about and said, "I know, let's call the 3 bears and see if they have any idea?"... Grumpy abruptly said "You idiot Happy, that story was from 1839, those bears are, ahem, in forever hibernation."

"Well," chimed in Sleepy, "as long as someone ain;t been sleepng in my bed, I'm gonna take a nap."  Happy laughed, Bashful turned red, Grumpy rolled his eyes, Sneezy ahhh-choooo'ed.

Suddenly, no longer lethargic, Sleepy shouts "Hey, there's some chicky in my bed!" Doc rushed in to make sure she was breathing, Bashful peeked around the door threshold with one eye to see. Dopey tripped going up the stairs.  Grumpy ran and got his pistol, Sneezy ah-chooooo'ed, awakening the beautiful lady from her slumber.

They surrounded her bed, she gasped when she realized she was staring down the barrel of Grumpy's gun with him yelling "GET HER!"..  She BEGGED, "no, please, you've got to protect me from the evil queen!"....She told the story of how she got there, fleeing for her life...

Doc took it all in calmly, Happy believed it in a heartbeat, Bashful finally came around the corner, Dopey kinda stood there, Sneezy - well, you know... Grumpy noted "and then there were 6", beckoned Bashful to go get Sleepy outta his bed.

Upon hearing of the evil Queen, Grumpy put his gun down, sat on the edge of the bed and provided a much needed shoulder touch of "It's ok" to the Snow White lady.  Doc suggested, "Hey, I know, it's Kid's Eat Free at HopI, the 7 of us can eat free and we'll pretend she's our mom!" Grumpy cussed, then, remembered he was in a Disney movie, apologized, and said "OK, let's go, but damnit Doc it's IHop not HopI.....oops, sorry to cuss Walt."

They went, had cakes galore... all gathered in the den to watch DNN on TV.  Breaking News (isn't there always Breaking News?).. "Pandemic happening, stay home." Sneezy was easily manipulated and headed for bed. Doc offered "I know all of it about."  Bashful turned red, Dopey looked puzzled, Grumpy untangled "You mean you know about all of it."  "Yeah, that," Doc answered, peeking over his specs.

Stumbling periodically, but knowledgeable yet the same.. he informed them all about masks, 6 foot rule, quarantines, hand washing, sanitizer, yada.

Bashful ran to the store to buy masks, returned with a package of 6 that was on sale.. Grumpy said "Whatsup with that?"  "Well," Bashful explained, "I figure all of us could wear one, but, and no offense Sneezy, but you ah-choooo so often, I figured you could pull up your t-shirt over your nose/mouth, and wash it frequently."

"All well and good," Doc answered, "but what about Snow White?"  "Oh, don't you boys worry about me, I'll cut a piece from my apron and sew my own, mask, it's all good."

Happy, who doesn't stop laughing all that often, suddenly stopped. "Ya know, our small cottage is 42' long, which is perfect for Social Distancing for 7 of us, but for 8 people, we need it to be 48' long."

They all conversed on an idea, except Dopey, he simply held his hand underneath his chin.

They gave Bashful the keys to the truck, instructed him to purchase enough lumber to make the house be in 'code'... not long after he returned empty handed. "The hell?" Grumpy shouted, "I mean, the heck?"

"Well," Bashful explained, "while I was driving there, the head honcho from the mines called, apologized, but then said we were being laid of due to the pandemic, I got to the lumber yard, they told me that prices had increased 712%, so I knew we couldn't afford it with no income, so figured we once again could confer on what to do."  "Criminy" Grumpy shot.. "Criminy ain't a cussword is it?"  Doc, the educated one said nope.

Between drips, Sneezy said, "Hey, I read about that Paul Bunyan guy, maybe he could help?"  "Shit," Grumpy blurted, "er, I mean shoot, Sneezy, you idiot, Paul Bunyan did his handiwork in 1839, I really doubt he's around today."

By this time, they'd gathered, sharpened their saws and were intent to set out to chop down enough trees to make their cottage 48', enough for Social Distancing for all.  "The hell, er, heck, is Sleepy?" Grump yelled. "Ain't sure," Hap said, "but I got an idea."  Dopey just kinda stood there.  Happy went, found Sleepy, and for hours all that was heard was the zig-zagging of the saws, with an occasional ah-choooo thrown in."

Snow White had hot chocolate and S'mores for all the Smurfs once they were done. Happy he-hawed with "Wrong fairy tale Snow White a lady, but we get the idea, and YUM!"

"I can't really taste the S'mores" Bashful hollered. "Oh uh," Doc muttered, "I mean 'Uh oh'... and off to the doghouse (with extra blankets) Bashful was sent for 14 days.

Thursday afternoon came and went, they all, unable to attend their favorite Pee Wee football game due to the pandemic.  Happy tried to console "Don't worry, we'll be back to normal one day."  Grumpy looked at Happy, then turned to look at Dopey, closing one of his eyes as he did.

"Oh CRAP...er, I mean shucks," said Doc, it's been 15 DAYS!  Dopey, go get Bashful and tell him he's all good." Dopey tapped Happy on the shoulder as if to say "Happy, would you come with me?"   Happy understood the gesture, and sure, he'd be Happy to.

BREAKING NEWS DNN plastered allover the boob tube.  Vaccine ready, come-n-get-it'... all 8 of 'em did, even though it took some convincing to get Grumpy to hop in with 'em.

Thursday, two weeks later, they all went, celebrated a win compliments of their favorite Pee Wee football team! "Yipee" Happy yelled, Dopey clapped, Bashful was the last into the car for the ride home.

Upon arrival, Snow White greeted them with a 6 pack of beer (Sneezy is allergic to barley) and a plateful of Itty Bitty Sweet Potato Stacks.  Sneezy got a cold glass of milk with a splash of Allegra.

They gulped the Stacks down, and just as they were finishing DNN once again had Breaking News.  "STORMS ABOUND. TAKE COVER."  They took the transistor radio to the basement, and guess which one said "I'm Happy we don't have to social distance any more."?? About that time Sneezy ahhhhh-choooed and sprayed allover, and the normally jovial Happy sad "But I kinda wish we could've social distanced."

They all jumped in their cribs (literally) for the night, and Snow White got the lone twin mattress.  

Morning came.  They were startled to look out the door and see debris allover. Trees, shingles, wood pieces, all kindsa foreign objects. With Sneezy's ahhh-chooos and Doc's snoring, they'd not heard a thing.

"Holy Shit!" Grump said as he looked out the back door, then immediately apologized and put a quarter in the cuss jar.  An entire house was lifted from somewhere, and lit in their yard. Upon further review, the house had landed on someone... and there were two legs sticking out from under, wearing some magic slippers. Standing back, Bashful inquired "She breathing?"... at 6:52 am, Doc proclamed the lady under the house to be officially deceased.

"IT'S THE EVIL QUEEN!" Snow White exclaimed...  Just about that time, the Huntsman rode up on his horse, jumped off, pulled the ruby red shoes off of the Queen, handed 'em to Snow White, then said "Hop on."

She kissed all 7 of 'em, even Sneezy, good bye, bid them well.

Wasn't long after the 7 were observed to be heading out the door in unison, singing, "Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, pandemic's over it's off to work we go."

Just another fairy tale from Gullible's Travels.

Doc tucked his stethescope under his shirt, Happy winked, Bashful was last in line, Sleepy was next to last because Bashful had to push him along the way. Dopey walked in silence and Grumpy bellowed "Jane, you ignorant slut, sorry, kinda, THIS is a Gullible's Travel because we didn't sing "Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, it's off to work we go. It was 'Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, it's HOME from work we go. Don't believe me, Google it.  Right Walt?

Love, and apologies,

Victurd

Blogger's note, which is akin to Editor's note.  Apologies, kinda. I truly set out to do a blog on Neil Young, there were so many wonderful songs, so many song meanings, different groups he was in (and wasn't for awhile, CSN). CSN&Y together, apart, together, apart. Also so many wives, Victor, look who's talking, yeah, I know... I figured it would be impossble to include it all in a 2 page blog.  Again, sorry.  I hope apologies help, that's the way, uh huh uh huh, I like it. Tune in tomorrow for the fairy tale of when Cinderella chokes Elsa for upstaging her.

And here's to you Mrs. Robinson.....

ATTENTION:  FORWARD MARCH!

Happens every May... ceptin', sometimes it usedta happen in June due to snow days, but virtual school took care of that junk - now, Graduation ceremonies are basically in May.

There's Pre-School Graduation....complete with graduation 'gowns' and hats made from colored paper, with glue, and a string on top representing the tassle. Folks are there.  Siblings.  Aunts, uncles, of course grannies, grandpas, the lucky ones - a great grandparent or two.

Kindergarten.  Folks, we're getting formal now. Teacher in dresses and suits (WHAT?)..  

And so on it goes..  1st grade, 2nd grade, 3rd, 4th, Middle School, Junior High, High School, College/University..

Pics are everywhere. Sometimes folks have saved up over the years and we get a pic for every year they headed out to school on Day 1.

There are cakes, confetti, car parades, rental halls, Mylar balloons shaped in whatever the year is...s'more relatives.. s'more friends.

ATTENTION (so to speak)...

and then...

FORWARD MARCH!.... Paul Harvey style.

BUT HEY?  What about us old farts? Can we not gain recognition? We graduate from lotsa stuff too!

Leaving Las Vegas...er, I mean Leaving Singlehood.  A huge step in life.  Part of me hears Roy Orbison's "It's Over,", but anudder parta me hears Meat Loaf and his "Paradise By The Dashboard Light." (I will loveya til the end of time.. and now I'm praying...  eh, nevermind.)

We graduate to our first briefcase.. 40 hour job (patooey)...  car payment.. WHAT?  I have to get full coverage?  MORTGAGE?   For 30 years?  Life with Michelob just turned to Natty Light.

A CHILD?  We're having a baby graduation ceremony?  Gender reveal, baby shower, buy this, buy that, paint the room, put together this Ikea crib, the time comes.. the time comes.. the time comes..  water breaks (do they have graduation ceremonies for that? contractions.. labor.. if those eyes could kill, she's staring at you as if it WAS your end of time..)

Then, we graduate from ever having enough sleep.  Damn colic.  Onesie outfits.. diapers, diapers and more diapers.  Pull-ups.. Potty trained! (Let's have a graduation party!)

And then we too go thru all that pre-school, 1st, 2nd.. middle.. jr high.. high school..on to college.. we're to the halfway point of graduating from that 30 year mortgage.. "Honey, let's refinance... it only makes cents.."  Crap.

Aging parents, we never hope that 'course' of life ends.  Sadly, it does. We 'graduate' carrying a piece of them in our heart forever.  We have many of their traits. Much of their keepsakes that continue to bring tears to our eyes for years.

RETIREMENT. Hell to the yes we'll have a graduation party! ATTENTION: FORWARD NAP!  Gimme a head with hair, long beautiful hair, shining, gleaming, streaming, flaxen, waxen..is replaced by:  Gimme a porch swing, Ex-Lax, Alexa to tell me the day of week, readers, large fonts, that check that comes like clockwork at midnight every 3rd Tuesday of the month, a scale with the numbers so small you can't read 'em,.... every question comes with 'depends'.. depends if I wanna, depends if I've got the energy, the money, yada, to one day simply just being Depends.

The G baby!  We graduate to the G-word, GRANDPARENT! Move that damn tassel over and hand me that baby! Thankfully, for the next umpteen years our ugly mug won't be on Facebook, instead, we'll post way too many damn (but gorgeous) pics of infant, toddler, first tooth, first steps, yada - for a long, long time. There ain't nuttin' like a grandbaby's smile to make that bursitis, arthritis, back pain WHISK away!

We sit alone at night.  Nudge the other, say "Listen"... and there ain't nuttin' heard.  "Listen to what?".. "That."  "WHAT?".. "The quiet. Ain't it perty?"  "Yes... yes it is.. ahm, whatinthehell was your name again?"

Ah, life. Graduations abound.  Hassles, tassels, love, tears, years, sadly-> mirrors...

We now come complete with sound effects for every move we make.  We kinda sound like a pirate ("Arrrrr") when we get outta bed, up from a chair, the stool. Near trips, falls, dropping things brings us laughter and giggles. 

We've graduated from the wrinkles bugging us so much.  And, the belly.  To hell with worry - gimme that carton of butter pecan ice cream from the freezer. Slowly, we graduate from worrying so much, a good thing.

So sure, take one (Ensure) down, pass it around, 99 bottles of Ensure on the wall.

Next time you look for your car keys that are in your hand, your phone that's in your back pocket, the reason you came into the room - you have formally graduated to bonifed.  A bonified older American. So toss confetti, tape up streamers, move that tassel from the left to the right (or was it right to left?).. and no more tests, exams, jobs, cartwheels,... you just passed...    gas.

Love, Victurd

Just a spoon full of sugar....

 Atari came out with Pong in 1972.  The very first successful commercial computer game. This ain't about that.  Kinda.  I remember the addiction (many) of 'wasted' hours watching that damn dot gyrate, bounce, wall to wall, this way, that way, coupled by the 'nnnnnngggggggghhhhhhh' sound if you missed. There are moments, at least in my life, where the thoughts running through my brain are akin to Pong.

I certainly can't speak for all, but, I believe many of us are intrigued by human behavior.  Whilst thrift stores do sell shoes, we can only really walk a mile in our own shoes.

I've got a wound on my leg.  Go weekly to get it dressed.  Doctor lady, really cool lady, after the "Hey! How are you?"s..then says "give me a #16" (whatever that means) and she proceeds to dig, get the really yucky stuff out of the wound.  Once, not all that long ago, I actually reacted and kicked a lady doing a Doppler radar of my leg.  Ha.  I felt really really badly but it was not done with intent, knee-jerk to the letter of the law.  I've yet to kick this Doc digging on my wound, but must admit I cringe, maybe internally cuss, cry, make a fist, yada.

After the scalpel like thing is put away, the Doc exits through the curtain on the way to her next fester... the RN asks "How would you rate your pain?"  I said '5'.  Not sure why, but I did. Back to human behavior - we all have different thresholds.  In athletics, the term "ice water in his/her veins" is used for those that don't get shook by nuttin.  That's one extreme.

The other extreme, and I hate to use a grandchild as an example, but maybe the very worst I've witnessed was the 7 year old, the Dentist and his Assistant literally on top of this screaming child in order to pull a tooth needing to come out.  What seemed like an hour leading up to this, he tossing, turning, refusing to give into the Doc's hands into his mouth, shreaks, shrills, tears, crying, pain (perceived, sure) - Doc said "there's only one way to do this" - I could not stay in the room to watch.

The thought here, is ice water (1), tooth pulled (10.)  Many, I'm sure, would lay on that table and let the Doc dig on a wound, would be cinchy, answer would be "1" as to pain level.  Others I fathom might have to have arms held, legs held, yada, accompanied by the shrieks, yellin', screamin', cussnin', that, the RN didn't even have to ask to ascertain the level of pain for this person.. In comparison, Frank Sinatra might sing "That's life."

Back to Pong if I may, aforementioned there are times the thoughts in my brain bounce similarly, continuously, just when one thinks they've a handle on a thought, the damn thing bounces off another wall - as if to say "but what about this?" Or that. Or, another bounce.  And anudder.  And, borrowing from another song (Paradise by the Dashboard Lights) "STOP RIGHT THERE!" Frenetic, to hopeful clarity.

Figuring out life, self love (or not) we ain't got that country twang snotnose "and I helped" from the Shake and Bake commercial, so we're left to figure out this dang thing on our own.

The end.  Kinda.  What follows below is mostly from an article I found kinda addressing the subject of self love. Ways to maybe unplug the game of Pong happening in our brain.  Maybe a teeter to the totter of a pain rating of 10. As John Lennon might pose, "HELP, I NEED SOMEBODY."

Self-love is not selfish; you cannot truly love another until you know how to love yourself. <-- Stolen. I likes that. Slow down ping pong ball.

Owning our story and loving ourselves through that process is the bravest thing that we’ll ever do. <- again, thieved.  It can be very hard to love one's self I do believe.

S'more stolen:

Be proud of who you are, not ashamed of how someone else sees you..... Be yourself.  An original is so much better than a copy...... You can't pour from an empty cup, take care of yourself first..... Put yourself at the top of your todo list every single day and the rest will fall in place.

Stolen continued:

Above all, be true to yourself, and if you can't put your heart in it, take yourself out of it..... If you are searching for that one person that wll change your life, take a look in the mirror...... STOP underestimating yourself..... You are allowed to be both a masterpiece and a work in progress simultaneously.... you were born to be real, not perfect...... No one can make you feel inferior wthout your consent.

OK, I'll stop. I have no idea why...... scratch that.  I have an idea.  I write this to actually help myself, and as long said "written to me, for me, hitchhikers welcome."

Like the weather.  Like people.  Like ballgame outcomes. Like a Super Ball.  Like a damn ping pong ball.  Whether or not you kick the doctor, have to be held down, or... you lay there like a cat in a sunny window sill.. we all have different thresholds, thoughts, ideas, conclusions, sure - needs, wants... 

Whether your Pong game is frenetically Ina Gotta Devita-like, or, Louie Armstrong laid back Wonderful World-like...or maybe as Crosby, Stills and Nash said..."when you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with."  You're a good thing.

By Henry Gibson.

(This doesn't have ANYTHING to do will all that, but in-between searches I found a Henry Gibson quote I enjoyed:   "My congregation supports all denominations, but our favorites are twenties and fifties.")

Love, Victurd

This is important.....

 It's not really... That ("This is important") seems to be a lifetime moniker, and the answer(s) to what is, what isn't important has so many extremes over the years.

I remember loving Little League so much, it was my everything. What I didn't know at the time, there was probably a couple a block or so away that would say "The damn bugs from the bright lights will be out tonight, the little rotten bastas got another game."

I remember the rages of surfer shirts, chucka boots, fruit loops, no fruit loops, don't wear green and yellow on Thursday, the duck tail, the pony tail, big hair, crewcuts, Brillcream - a little dab'll doya.

Now, I hardly look in the mirror, and to splurge on a new outfit now is a handy $10 bill at my favorite thrift store.

The important point, pun probably intended, is how "what is important" changes so vastly over the years.

Friends were certainly important way back in the day, and ARE throughout - but, additions happen.  Could be moving on in high school to a different sport, joining band, choir, yada, then - venturing down another similar road making newer friends - while hanging on the the old ones too.

Jobs are important (then one retires.)  Kidding, kinda. You think "this group of coworkers will be around forever and a day, that's important" - then, whoosh, opportunity means moving to another city, bankruptcy happens, doors close, American buying habits change (as does what's important to them), there be no more Blockbusters, Western Autos, Sears, Southwestern Bell, TWA, Sprint, yada.

The nights of worry in the bedroom where one's spouse probably thinks your insomnia was caused by "is something wrong with us", when it was actually maybe a yucky coworker, or a micromanaging boss, or, an impossible task/assignment that was thrown at you and you worry how you are going to do that, coach little league, keep the damn yard mowed, and pay the annual city/county taxes all in one.

Now, Uncle Sam's check comes like clockwork.  It ain't much, but adaptation happens. Some things that usedta be important we toss, simply due to cost - and that's ok. Rear view mirror important.

Illness, affliction certainly changes perspective, importance (or not) of things, events. I have a relative I admire like crazy, over two years in to fighting cancer... "Victor, I'm glad cancer picked me... it's made me a better person, it's put me closer to God."  Wow to the wow.

In a world - maybe a "past world" where 'men aren't supposed to show emotion'.... it's different now.  My own father, a man of the Depression, World War II, 'don't show emotion', never really overly did.  You could see in his eyes, his demeanor, his quietness when he did/would emote, but it took Parkinsons to bring on the first ever tear I saw from his eyes.  "What's important" was in there the entire time - it simply took something as ugly as Parkinsons for it to come to front.

It's as if life is a whittling process, and as we age we are more able to hone in on what REALLY is important. The handshake (or the pandemic fist bump), the hug, the word love.. the "you've been such a great friend over the years.".. The "I've never told you this, but I've long admired how you....."(do this, do that)

Hell to the yeah the 2016, 2020 and eventually the 2024 election were/are important.  Getting this pandemic in the rear view mirror is of importance. Praying Mike Matheny finds a way to end this damn ten game losing streak, that Pat Mahomes will one day "GOAT" over the aging Tom Brady...that's all important.

But.  It really ain't.  Living and loving along the way is really important. Facetime with a grandkid is more important than the Super Bowl, or, watching "two hit Whit."

A golf game, with those of similar wrinkle, is important. It's an example (for me at least) of being, living, loving - be damned the final score.

Oh sure, I very much miss being in a relationship. I'm really ok, and one day I really do plan on getting a kitty cat!.. But if by chance you're sitting in the living room reading this, and you've a mate nearby, it's my hope that importance grabs you and that it's not taken for granted.  As we've aged, in the past it seems many of us jumped out of a relationship on something as simple as an itch.  Thankfully, the older we get the more that attitude seems to change.  Nowadays, if there is an itch, we get to the root of 'why' rather than running to the post office for a change of addy card.

That tail wags?  Pet it, it's important. Belly empty?  Take him/her/them out for Chinese, or Mexican, or BBQ - or, order two pizzas and tip the snotnose very well.

See that couple once again out attending their beautiful yard?  Pull over, roll the window down, tell 'em how much you enjoy driving past their yard.

Share a porch, or a porch swing, or a text, an instant message, a quick visit, bring a bottle of wine, a six pack.. dinner.. a cake..  donuts.. little is huge as we age. 

Don't forget yourself.  You're important.  We forget that, and it's sad. I can think of a thousand or twelve folks of importance to me.  Devastation comes to mind were I to wakeup one day and not have this friend, that friend, this relative...etc. I am sure the same for you, so don't go down the damn path of thinking you aren't important.  YOU ARE.

Live and love.... it's important.

By Henry Hallmark Gibson

Love, Victurd

Every day is Mother's Day.....

 "I believe in love at first sight because I loved my mom since I opened my eyes."

Mom.  Literally the most impactive person on the planet.

"My mom was my role model before i even knew what that word was."

I think the vast majority of us are selfish, I do. Our thoughts are primarily about the mirror. Just behind the word mom, care is probably the second most yummy word there is.  We are, can be selfish, moms aren't - they ALWAYS care.

A 40-something good friend wrote "If someone would like to give me a stuffed animal and a juice box, then turn on some cartoons, I would appreciate it."....ie, "I want my mommy." Moms offer safety.  Love.  Advice, without demand.  There is no teacher alive that gives the lesson of empathy better than mom.

"My mom taught me everything, except how to live without her."  I understand the thought, but I believe the process of being a mother does exactly that, prepare us for life after her. There is perhaps no greater loss than losing one's mother - but we never really do - she's always there in our heart. Our mind. Our decision making, our thought process. Our eyes.  Our smile. Our want for others to have good.

Life after mom still 'speaks.' We are human.  Thankfully, in life we struggle at times with decision.  The human within us can certainly error - BUT, mom, even after not being here on earth - still, helps mold our decisions.  We do not want to let our mom down - long after she's departed.  It's inherent. If you'll notice that word, inherent, the first five letters are 'in her'. She's always there. I am well aware I've stumbled, made poor decisions and every time it's met with regret that I haven't made her proud. She, not there with switch, glare, arms on hips - rather, there with love, the want for us to make good decisions, with the thoughts of those around us in mind.  Moms ARE here after they are gone. Sure, there are no two moms alike, but they are alike in that they are mom.

Mothers put our needs ahead of their own.  Think about that.  Scroll up to 'selfish. Mothers are selfless. I think of my mother every time I cough.  Huh?  Yes.  I will never forget, as a child, when I coughed, my mother would purposely hold her breath until I caught mine. If that doesn't invoke love I ain't real sure what does.

My father's mother died when he was 6.  I can't imagine - but it brings us to another kind of mother.  Grandmas, aunts, siblings, step-parents, adoptive parents, even dads, others that step in and love, somehow magically help fill that role. All those different 'types' are really just one thing - mom.

May 9, 1914, President Woodrow Wilson proclaimed the first Mother's Day.  He asked Americans to give a public "Thank You" to their mothers and all mothers. Long overdue - and probably skewed in that 364 days a year should be Mother's Day, reserving one selfish day for our own birthday.

All stolen:

  "A mother is your first friend, your best friend, your forever friend."

  "When you are looking at your mother, you are looking at the purest love you will know.:"

  "The most important thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother." Even us divorced big boys need to remember this, and never utter a disparaging word.

  "My mother taught me about the power of inspiration and courage, and she did it with a strength and passion that I wish could be bottled."

The grief of losing one's mother never ends.  Moms are special.  Because moms are special, so is life.

A son. (Or daughter)