She would be 70 today.
I miss her so much. I can't even explain it.
She's been gone almost 22 years.
And even now, when I think about it the pain tears me apart. (Crazy enough...when I first wrote the number of years, I wrote 12 and believed it...It HASN'T been only 12 years...it's longer. Feels like yesterday I lost her.)
I could cry.
I do cry.
Especially when I want to share the absolutely wonderful things my daughter does.
Very especially when I need help with the absolutely dreadful things my daughter does.
I'll never be 100%.
I'll always be missing a huge part of me. There will always be a hole where that part of my heart should be. The part that had a mother growing up.
The part that needs her mother is always void. The part that wants her mother is always deprived. The part that is shaped by her mother is always abandoned.
I miss you so much mom. I wish you were here with all my heart and soul. I'd give anything to be able to talk to you.
I think about you every day. I see you in my mind every day. The vivid images are lacking, but the memories are there.
In times when I really need you. I think hard about you. I meditate on your voice. I imagine you telling me it'll all be alright. I hear you saying you'll always be in my heart. You never truly left me. You've always been inside of me. I wish.
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die.
~Mary E. Frye