One year.
I still lose my breath,
when I think about that day.
How
I wasn’t there
to
hold her hand,
caress her face,
tell her
one last time
how much she meant
to me.
To, my children.
She was my best friend.
My mother.
The one woman in my life who made me believe that there were good women on this earth.
The one I aim to be like.
She taught me love, compassion,
The Lords prayer, and
Grace.
It’s been one year and a day since I heard her voice.
We talked of Thanksgiving, and Christmas,
and a Hello Kitty necklace she bought for Bella.
We talked frequently about how I didn’t know what I would do without her.
I lost my breath that day.
The miles between us seemed infinite,
never ending.
The car ride was painful.
Memories flowing like burning tears on my cheek.
How?
To survive without this person in my life was impossible.
Yet here I am,
a year later.
Able to laugh, in spite of the pain.
Listening to saved voicemails,
her voice preserved forever.
Listening to my children tell stories with smile and not tears,
watching them remember her the way she was meant to be remembered.
She was right.
in the stories she told me,
How she was able to deal with death.
You don’t get over it.
You won’t.
Just,
Learn to breathe again.
In the Season of Sanders 