“Have you been writing?” She asked. “And what do I write about Mom? My problems are no more than anyone else’s. “ I knew she heard the sarcasm in my voice. “Oh this horrible year. “ I continued “Oh I lost my job, oh I have no money to pay my mortgage? I can maybe last another month tops? I have no insurance so if I get sick with this I’m screwed?” I think she could hear my eyes rolling. “Well, you shouldn’t give it up. It’s something you are good at. You love it.” Her tone was motherly. Encouraging. Hopeful. Soothing. “No mom, I’m not giving up. But there is really nothing I can say right now that hasn’t been said. And what has been said, has been said at a level far beyond my novice skills and abilities.” I lamented. “Well you always have something to say.” I heard her smile through the phone. I wasn’t irritated. There is nothing like the encouragement of a parent and I loved her for it. No, it was more an irritated revelation of my sheer disappointment and sadn