The fourth of July hasn't been my favorite holiday for quite some time. Growing up in Los Angeles, I used to love the day. It was a day filled with family, food and fireworks. Thirteen years ago today, my mother passed away, and I've always said she helped keep this family together. She may have adopted me, but she was still my blood. Complicated family tree. I don't speak to my birth father these days at all, and I barely talk to anyone else. I called my brother in California this week, and he isn't doing all too great. If you pray, throw in a few words for him.

It's kind of funny to me because in learning how to tweet, storm facebook and bouncing around online this week I actually found the facebooks of some people I once knew or talked to. It is weird finding people like that online, but you get over it. Today to me is just another day. I take it a little bit slower, think a little bit more, and I remember the woman that raised me. She was only 57 when she passed away, and she would be seventy now. I sometimes wonder how she would be now, how I would be if she still loved. She was always my strongest supporter. I still miss her, but this year it isn't as sad. Not sure why, but that's just how it is. Have a happy 4th of July everyone.