I miss you so much right now. I wish I could talk to you - really talk to you. I wish we could bake some chocolate chip cookies together and I could make you laugh by building a fort out of butter and sugar. I wish I could wake up to the smell of the best pancakes on in the world and know that big, fluffy, light, perfect pancakes can't possibly be a "simple carb" or bad for me in any way, because more love went into those pancakes than any seven-grain-extra-fiber-low-fat-now-with-vitamin-D waffle I could buy from the health food store.
I miss being able to talk to you about work and friends and life over a bowl of homemade mac & cheese - where the cheese is all thick and creamy and the chopped onions are added at just the perfect moment.
I miss telling you things. I want you to know Isabelle. I want to tell you stories about her and make you laugh. I want to see Sufi cuddle up on your lap because you two would've been like two peas in a pod.
I want you to know that I'm glad you're not in pain anymore. The things in the world that hurt you and caused stress, pain, and strain in your everyday life, - the things that made you worry and the things that made you cry - I'm glad those things aren't there for you anymore. I'm glad you don't have to worry about the cost of gas. I'm glad you no longer break your back every day in a thankless job. I'm glad no one is hounding you about property taxes and you don't have to worry about who will shovel the driveway and how icy the roads are. I'm glad you're not here for the inflation of food prices and to see the devastation the world suffers in storms and plague every day. I'm glad there are no more sleepless nights of worrying. I'm glad there's no more pain.
But I do miss you so much. I miss talking to you and I miss the comfort of your morning routines. I miss being able to laugh at the world with you. The little things. Hot chocolate on a cold morning while listening to the radio. Reading on the porch until there wasn't enough light to see. Watching the rain, sitting outside on a warm summer night drinking iced tea.
I have a lot of you in me and one of those things is to be very critical of myself. But you know that. Every day, I hope I did right by you in the end. I did the best I knew to do and I still wonder if I could have done something better. If I could have made it easier, somehow. If I could have made it hurt less. I hope I wasn't a disappointment. I hope I'm not. I still wonder if you'd be proud of me today.
I just miss you a lot right now. Wish I could talk to you. In the meantime, I know eventually I'll see you later.
I love you, Mom.