I Miss You!

Your Birthday is coming up. So is Mother's Day. There's been a few times where the two were on the same day or right next to each other. Today my heart is heavy. I found your ID in my wallet. I forgot that I put it there. I saw your face and I broke into tears. I have one of those photo booth pictures, just one not the whole strip. I'm about Kaia's age and it's cute to see us being goofy together. We didn't have a traditional Mother/Daughter relationship. It was much more than that. Sometimes the roles were reversed.

I don't know how to do this mourning thing. I just do what comes. I feel what I feel. Sometimes I don't know what my problem is until it comes to the surface. You and Dad were too young. Your grand kids don't know you. I also believe you would have made the most awesome Grandma and I was right when I saw how you were with Z man. He adored you!

My heart right now is more broken than it was the day I found out you were gone. Perhaps the real grieving has begun. I'm not shy to put this out there, maybe because other people are going through grief, there's someone grieving every single day. Another blogger posted a recipe for German chocolate cake. She said she had to make it for her husband for his Birthday. It reminded me of how much you loved it. Your Birthday was May 13, maybe I'll have some and think of you.

I'm thankful for the memories, I'm thankful that you and I made a pact to never regret having something left unsaid. We tried to be as honest as possible with each other and we both loved each other fiercely. I'm grateful for the wonderful memories that I play like movies in my mind. I haven't however, been able to cope with the fact that I can't call you anymore. I can't tell you about my happiness, your granddaughter, my struggles. God knew my friends would fill the void as much as they could though and it's been a help to me.

The flight to come see you is still fresh in my mind. The agony of knowing I wouldn't get say goodbye before you were gone. The messages when I got off the plane that confirmed you were. The numbness. Saying goodbye to you while looking down at the water. The funeral home handing my mother to me in a velveteen box, the weight of it taking me aback. The happiness I felt knowing you were in our Father's presence and no longer in pain.

All of these things run through me tonight. I just wanted to say I miss you...