7 months to this date to be exact. You’ve been gone for that long and yet I still can’t justify it. You were leaving me right in front of my eyes and I couldn’t bring myself to think that you would ever be gone.
During your battle I always dealt with it as ‘out of sight, out of mind’ which looking back, wasn’t my best choice. Yes I should’ve asked more questions about what was happening but I thought that as your daughter it would be better if I wasn’t another person on your list asking, “How are you feeling?”, “When’s your next chemo session?”. I know it frustrated you that I didn’t look further into your appointments and condition but I figured you had enough of that going on. I wanted to live life with you as normal as possible. You deserved that.
This point last year, you were alive. You were thriving. You didn’t let anything get in your way. And yet, here we are… and you’re gone. I never thought this would happen. I wasn’t prepared for this. No one was. It still feels like a dream I can’t wake up from or that you’ve been at our lakehouse, or on vacation in Florida with our Uncle. As if you’re coming back to us but you’re not. Your clothes are still in your closet, your sunglasses are still sitting on the table with your car parked in the garage as if you’re going to be taking it to get Grandma for groceries. It feels like you’re still here with us but that’s not going to help me when I have questions that need answers.
I’m not really sure where I am suppose to be in life by now but you were suppose to be here to help me figure that out.
When a girl loses her mother, her role model is gone. You are the person she can constantly look up to and get approval from. I wish I could’ve talked to you about situations in my life sooner. I wish I could’ve asked you more questions about how to survive the ‘real world’.
I know I can’t be mad at you for any of this. God only takes the best ones right? And if so, why? There are so many things your daughters aren’t going to experience with you and it hurts. Like hell.
Christmas wasn’t the same…actually any holiday from now on won’t be. You didn’t get to see me graduate which you worked so hard to have me out in only four years. Looking up into the crowd at only Dad was heartbreaking, not only to me but our whole family. You were suppose to be right beside him, whistling in the crowd. I wish you were here to see me get my first ‘big girl’ job. I wish you could be here to help your daughters find an apartment in the city. I wish you could be here to see us get married. I wish you could be here to see us have kids and call them your grandchildren. I wish you could be here for not only the ‘big’ moments but the little ones too.
We all have our wishes and yet most of them are never granted. At 22 years-old, no one should ever have to go through this… actually at any age. You were a wife, a mother, a sister, a friend. You were suppose to be here to teach us so much more, guide us through life and explain to us why things turn out a certain way.
I re-watch videos I have of you just to hear your voice one more time. To watch your smile one more time. To remind myself that you’re in a better place and not suffering. But I’d give anything to hug you one more time and to tell you I love you.
Maybe ‘your time’ was up and you’ve taught us everything you needed to but I beg to differ.
The one thing you forgot to teach us, was how to live without you.
