After You’ve Gone Written by MrsD After years of mutual bickering and shirty jibes, I view my mother Syb and I as being very different. I am like my Dad, I think to myself. But at a ripe old age Syb dies and I come to the very shocking realisation that … I am my mother. Share this:TwitterFacebookGooglePinterestLike this:Like Loading... Leave a Reply Cancel reply Enter your comment here... Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Email (Address never made public) Name Website You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out / Change ) You are commenting using your Google+ account. ( Log Out / Change ) You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out / Change ) You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out / Change ) Cancel Connecting to %s Notify me of new comments via email. This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.