Eleven Years, and I Still Miss You
Eleven years on March 24th. I have now lived more than half my life without my mom. Eleven years, and yet, this year it seems to hurt the most. I'm about to hit the biggest moments of my life yet. College graduation. My wedding, beginning a marriage. A new home with my new husband. A career and furthering my education. What I would give to have her there for even one of those. In eleven years, I've learned how to handle situations and circumstances. I know that awkward questions, or responses, can be smoothed over with a couple of graceful words. I've come to terms with the fact that it's often easier just to say she couldn't make it to the appointment with me instead of going into the full story. I've learned how to fake it till I make it with hosting social events in her place. But I haven't learned how to not tear up when a Sara Evan's song from the early 2000's plays on the radio. Or how to face the annual Mother's Day sermon ...