I know I haven’t updated in a very long time. My mom passed away last week, after a long fight with the complications of diabetes. I really don’t feel like recounting the entire thing again, but I was with her when she passed away and I am as content as one could be that she is at peace. Yesterday was her funeral/memorial service and we skipped giving a eulogy but I did read this letter:
I don’t know if I’m up or down right now. I jump from okay to falling apart and back again. I mostly can’t fathom how the world continues to turn without you in it. My one constant in life is gone. The person that went hungry for me or made peanut butter and crackers a game – the person that would slip me a twenty and tell me to keep my mouth shut – the person that always seemed to know to call when I cooked dinner so that I couldn’t carry a conversation – if I had known then what I know now, I’d have left the roast to burn so I could have five more minutes on the phone.
I knew you were sick – very sick – but you pulled through so much that it got to be a thing that happened. I waited for you to wake up and act normally, maybe yelling at us for our choice of hospital for you until you took your last breath. I knew it wasn’t to be, but I wished for it anyway. You always woke up before.
I know you’re in a better place with both of your legs, dancing with Jesus. I know you are happy and at peace. I know all of that. That doesn’t stop me from wishing. No more silly singing animals for my birthday – no more sitting at my house on a Sunday until Darrell was practically begging to go home because you didn’t want to – no more common sense advice when my kids get sick. It’s the little things I miss.
I have already caught myself wanting to call you or thinking of something I can’t wait to tell you and it hasn’t even been a week. I have to learn how to live life without my constant. We all do.
I imagine you, happy and young with your parents and friends and the babies you never got to meet and I can’t think of you as being anything but full of joy.
Just don’t forget to shine down on the rest of us. We love you too and we always will.
Until we meet again,
Your baby girl