Hearts break, stories end, and yet…time marches on.
That was her biggest regret, you know. In our candid conversations near the end, she was ruined at the thought of what she would miss as time continued on without her. And here we are, on the eve of the tenth anniversary since her death. My mother was so special to me. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that she wasn’t made for this world.
I admired her more than I’m capable of admiring another. She was the kind of person that I will always strive to be—she wasn’t perfect, but she was real. She was true to herself and her creed…and no one who knew her had a better, more caring friend. She gave her love easily, and she gave it well. I know it sounds as though I’ve made her larger than life—and I grant you, I am prone to exaggeration—but to me, she actually was larger than life.
I can’t believe that I’ve lived the past decade without you, Mom…but then, have I? I feel your presence so often…in a song, a scent, a memory. Every now and then, I open my mouth and you come out. I inherited your quirky sense of humor…which basically means that I laugh at my own jokes even nobody else does—I’m constantly amused with myself. And most importantly, I know how to love totally and without reservation…I learned that from you.
It’s not such a bad life really. It would just be so much better if you were here.
I still miss you.