Hey, Mom
I needed a cry today so I read the letter you left us 5 years ago. It worked. There’s a lot of feelings that arise I could unpack with it. I think I’ll let them settle internally to sift out later.
The anniversary of loosing you was hard, like it always is. I’ve been a moody witch (as you would have said, with a look that said you didn’t mean “witch”) more than one day this month, and poor Alex has taken the brunt of it. But he’s forgiving and Ill try to be better.
I wish so badly I lived in a world where you could come visit. We could sit in the courtyard and watch the cats chase bugs and talk about all the plants that I’m trying to get growing in the landscaping. We’d be sipping extra strong coffee. You’d listen so attentively as I told you about my hobbies, and you’d have such wisdom to fill in the cracks of my life with. Because you were the type of person who cared so deeply about the details of those around you, and you just got me so well. And you’d get animated as you told me your latest ideas about the world and your plans for a garden; perhaps we’d both start ranting about a mutual frustration and solve it all while we were at it. Because you were so full of life and energy and thoughts. And before we knew it it’d be 2 in the morning and we wouldn’t even have noticed it.
It’s never gonna be easy. Every year I’m going to hurt, and every year I’m going to think “wouldn’t it be great if…?” But it’s a small consolation that this lap past the marker hasn’t been just me seeped in bad memories of cancer, and more about who you were and continue to be to me, and maybe that’s the progress I needed even if it’s just another shade of grief.
I Say It Better In Writing 