Yesterday I took mom to see Mother’s Day. Tonight I took her out to Wild Wings for dinner. It was much needed. It’s always a tough time of year for me. This week thirteen years ago was the worst week of my life. And today starts it for me. So I soak up time with my mom in hopes I won’t succumb. Like I said last year: time doesn’t heal all wounds; it dulls the pain.
As I drove to work this morning, I couldn’t help but think about in an alternative world where she is alive. Would she be married? With or without kids? Would she still be playing soccer? Would she still be my friend?
I messaged my friend today and let her know that I love her and am glad she is in my life. The response I got: am I dying? Are you dying? What’s happening? I hate all the feelings I get around this time. The waves of all these emotions. I hate that I can’t remember if I told her how much she meant to me. When my dogs were alive, I would just look at them and suddenly the memories of her calling me and declaring: I’m bored. I remember when we walked the dogs on a snowy day. My poor dogs paws froze and they just laid down on the ground, refusing to move. I tried to warm them up enough for us to scramble back home. I remember waking up with her an inch from my face and scaring the day lights out of me. I don’t remember her laugh anymore and it kills me. I remember her smile though.
I have this book by one of my favorite authors. When I bought the book, I stared at the cover for a long time. I thought I was going crazy because I saw her face. I would see her face a lot back then. It took years for me to show the cover to Jess. I was afraid it was all in my head. But when I showed her, Jess saw her too.
I can’t believe it has been thirteen years since I last saw you. After all this time, it still doesn’t feel real.