I can’t accept it for myself. When I was told ‘Your tattoo parlor is gone.’ I cringed. It isn’t MY tattoo parlor. It was the place I had gotten my tat, but it wasn’t mine. I possess a watch, books, things given to me, thoughts, my body, and my medical supplies. The boys are mine only be birth, I do not possess them, though. It isn’t in my make up to hold onto things around me so firmly no matter what it is. I think my use of the word is more passive. Usually!
It makes me wonder, too, if this is what has helped mom stay alive through so many cancers. She grips so firmly to life, she can’t let it go. So, perhaps it is a good thing, in the long run. To be able to hold onto everything and anything so tightly they become an integral part of one’s world must be a positive. The oddest part? She is so darn independent. She is like the hub of a wheel and the ‘MY’ parts are the spokes. If a spoke goes missing, she adds another.
We may resemble each other on the outside, but on the inside we are not much alike. OK, other than both being health anomalies.