This is it. We’re standing on the precipice of one year without you beautiful face, that smile, your laughter.
I miss those giant brown eyes and that sharp sense of humor comparable to any salty sailor that ever rode those grey ships on the oceans.
It seems like yesterday you were sitting on the kitchen counter, waiting for me to come home. You bounding through the door straight to the fridge or pantry. Your experiments all over the place in varying stages of completion.
I miss our Saturday’s together. Going to Mass together. Making up our own lyrics to music. Face diving into each other’s beds to crush each other.
I could go on and on about everything I love about you.
I could go on about the shattered heart, emptiness and ache. Sitting in a bedroom long deserted by its former occupant. Your things left just like they were the day you died. I think so much of me died with you.
Despair is my company now. Sometimes I wake up happy like before you died and then I remember you aren’t here and those shades of color dissipate.
I know now that I will never get over you. Thank you for the fourteen years we had together. Thank you for being my child. I loved being your Mama. I will always love you. Everyday that passes is one day closer to being with you again.