The whippoorwill has called and you are home now. I know it will take some time, but nothing feels right without you here. Today we said our final goodbyes - dad, the girls and I took time, both together and alone, to say a few words, shed a few tears and share a few, small tokens of love with you. I still feel at a loss, almost empty, and yet so full, from all the love you've shown and all the memories we've shared. It'll be a week before we share those goodbyes with family and friends, and what a long week it will be.... While I'm thankful for the time to prepare and make everything perfect (as can be) for you, and family can make arrangements to be here a week from today, I wish Saturday (and moving on) was just a little closer.
I still just can't believe you're really gone. That I will never again see your smiling face, hear your laughter or even just the simple words only a mother can say. That I will never feel your touch or get to hug and kiss you hello and goodbye again. That I will never taste all the yummy meals you took so much time to prepare and master. I can't believe the thought of your raisin sauce with our Christmas ham brought me to tears. Sometimes the simplest things invade my thoughts and either bring a smile to my lips or tears to my eyes.
I remember all the times we shared, just the two of us, alone on the porch sharing our innermost thoughts and dreams. So many countless memories... So many things you taught me and situations you helped me through, by just being you: so supportive and understanding. I loved how I could do no wrong in your eyes.
I tried being out today. The girls and I went to Walmart to have prints made of photos we have of you on the computer. I knew it wouldn't be easy, that's why I wanted them with me. But God, I hated being out, with all those people shopping for Christmas and looking around, hoping I wouldn't see anyone I knew. I felt something short of panic set in and I knew I had to leave. I know as the days and weeks and months go by, doing that will become easier.
We're meeting with a minister tomorrow that we've never met, but comes highly recommended. I hope you'll like him and that he says the right things. We're trying to honor your wishes, while still having our own needs met as well. I'll continue to pray that your smile from above will be wide and that you and nana and anyone else you happen to run into up there are at peace with all that's happening down here. We'll keep doing the best we can.
I love you, mom. Rest in peace.