Tuesday, March 25, 2014

A Short One With Tears About Mom

It hits me like a ton of bricks when it's my first time in a few days that I'm alone. I'm not at work, I'm not with the kid. It's me in the house and I get sad that Mom is gone. So I talk out loud to the air, that I wish she was here. And then I get busy and get a bunch of stuff done even before I sit down to drink coffee and feel like I'm rocking this time before I go to work. And then I read this beautiful email from one of Mom's friends and she says,

"The world is a smaller place without her." And I just fucking lose it. Because it really, and truly, and most definitely is. 

I will always endeavor to be happy. I'm just never going to be as happy as I was when she was here.

There will always be light, it's just not as bright. And that's life.

Live every day with joy and happiness, like, totally. But we have a few key companions on this journey, and once they're gone, it can never be the same. We mustn't think it will ever go back to normal, because it won't. There is only the clich├ęd "new normal." But that's the only way to put it.

So that's where I am. I miss her. I want to call her and tell her about this amazing picture that the kid drew, and more than that, this ridiculously creative story she wrote that goes with it. My goodness, she's so bright and she's so creative and fabulous, and I so miss sharing that with Mom. Or sharing the silly conversations that the kid and I have, because when I made my mom laugh, like a really good laugh, oh my gosh, how I loved it. I loved laughing with her. I miss it and her hugs and knowing that she could always make me feel like everything will be okay.

And everything will be okay. So she let me know that enough that I know it's true.

But man. How I miss her.

Be good to each other. Be so good and positive in the world that you are ridiculously missed.