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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Harriet Harris née Kuritsky... Despite being a nineteen year old bride she wed Boyce Brandon Harris half a decade her senior, (where I ranked less than a twinkle in their eyes) during the month of June 1955, not quite half a century later ~ May 4th, 2005 death severed the pledge she did troth linkedin wifely role, cuz against her will she died at most four weeks to be more exact golden wedding anniversary never witnessed raging against accursed grim reaper countenance succumbed into collective sorrow life force forever absent snatched away, yet magically transformed into the breathing edenic idyll courtesy green thumb of eldest sister of mine once livingsocial mother of ours invoking trademark contagious l'chaim flickering aura, charisma, instant karma persona could not hide mommy dearest physically eclipsed after rigor mortis displayed deathly pallor bonafide grateful dead signed, sealed and delivered human cargo into crematorium. Born November 13th,1935, the presence of long since deceased mother her absence acutely recounted on said date, no matter familial relationship between us, who begat yours truly (me) fraught with antipathy, especially when writer of these words felt he long overstayed his welcome as I racked up living with parents while being a long haired pencil neck baby boomer geek experiencing dating women for the first time courtesy thursday night contra dance. Books ravenously digested and female protagonists he brood as an illusory substitute for this dude whose retreat into his bedroom kindled like tinder unidirectional family feud and donned Samson guise as a protective hood, whereby Beatle browed, foo fighting literate philosophical thinker envied groovy hippies of the late nineteen sixties riffing lyrics of fab four fabled melody of Hey Jude, where testosterone laden fantasies triggered whet dreams housed lewd seminal urges pestering spouse, who offtimes rarely in the mood for a quickie with the dickie. Mein kampf as a thirty plus year old groom test teasing prophylactics embarrassing purchase never made at local drugstore unsurprisingly, obviously, invariably... birth control taboo subject, best to ignore subsequently intercourse awkwardly coordinated, consummated, completed extempore synonymous with phallic fulfillment gonadal hormonal secretion on par with the mythic sheet with a hole through which prude and archaic as modus operandi methodology maternal grandparents supposedly copulated, hence bun in the oven between self and future missus Matthew Harris wrought premarital sex bon jure. I trot out essential tidbits of poem acknowledging birthday of dear ole mom, who succumbed to deadly terminal illness, she lost lease on life, and met her demise sooner than indomitable will clamored to live approximately nineteen and a half years ago from May 2024, who frequently asked me, but never received acknowledgement during her livingsocial years did abjure (as the sole son) communicating HAPPY BIRTHDAY. Impossible aery mission to pinpoint when advent of zygote triggering miraculous bitta bing bitta bang, whence deoxyribonucleic acid wrote legacy of mortal maternal demise only a hunch backed up that mystery to unleash feral fiendish fornication once smote yielded unicellular spore while in utero ~ early/mid February I ain't exactly sure nineteen hundred thirty five - dirt poor Harriet Harris, fourth, last born (interesting enough shared same birthdate with eldest sister twelve years her senior) fetched vicinity Coney Island offshore by stork, became favorite progeny begat courtesy Morris, and then swore celibacy forever more Rebeckah Kuritsky heretofore harbored inchoate genetic fore boded, encoded, inscribed deadly mutations housed, fetched, dispatched and bore flawed BRCA1 and BRCA2 genes sketched affecting circumscribing her allotted mortality orbitz equaling about six months shy of three and a half score unknowingly, unsuspectingly, unwittingly, her biologic fatal demise indelibly etched. Breast cancer first brush sounded death knell Harriet clocked approximately six months shy of being a septuagenarian orbitz around the sun, she underwent grueling radiation plus chemotherapy carcinoma eradicated allowed, enabled, provided breathing spell reprieve accentuated, galvanized, punctuated... newfound zealous zest almost nothing could quell significance pray tell new lease on life to sell lib berate cherish, relish, whish each precious moment thwarting pell mell adversity with bon vivant elan and gusto to issue rebel yell kickstarting, making breast livingsocial aye bell, especially after despite... er... well her double mastectomy, she looked fabulously swell courtesy silicon implants slight downside reconstituted racked busty bosom susceptible to ooze gel. Many years post remission telltale diagnosis, viz ovarian, despite requisite hysterectomy emotionally did impale, she instinctually, intuitively, invariably, yet quiver and quail against impending demise 24/7 did assail guardian angel(s) of no avail, nor did yours truly proffer nurturance resentment smoldering within this male red hot poker anger lambasting me peppered with ultimatums to vamoose, never got resolved ensuing estrangement deterred reaching out to embrace, hearing raspy fading breaths exhale, miserably tethered with tubes when she did severely pine ail and grievously bewail corporeal essence ashen pale awkwardly, helplessly, stupidly... I stood formidable grim reaper foe whisked mother to Elysian fielded dale.
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