Grieving is such a weird thing. It’s been exactly one year since my mom took her last breath. It’s been one year since I got to see her pretty face. One year since I heard her say, “Good night, sweetie pie” to me.
And I remember everyone telling me that “it gets easier” and I’m still not quite convinced that it’s entirely true. Because in my darkest, quietest moments, I still miss her just as bad as I did that first week.
Sometimes it just hits me like a ton of bricks and I’m consumed entirely by my sadness. Other times, it is easier, it’s true. I can get through most days just fine. But the dark days are all-consuming. And I think that’s just how it’s going to be.
I mean, when you lose your best friend, you never fully get over it.
This isn’t my typical happy post. Because this isn’t my typical happy day. I’m so blessed and thankful that I can honestly say that a typical day for me IS happy. But not today. And I’m at peace with that.
Please, if you have a second, say a little prayer or send happy thoughts my way, and my dad’s way, and my brothers’ and aunt and grandpa and so many who loved my mom as much as me. And that is a lot of people, because she was just so easy to love.
I miss you every day, Mom. I know you’re looking down on me and smiling that gorgeous smile of yours. I know every time I cry, you are there whispering for me to stop. I hope I’m making you proud. I hope that you know how much you’re missed. I so look forward to the day when I get to see your face again.