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Sunday, November 20

I miss her

It has been awhile since I wrote and there has been so many amazing events and disatrous events. I happened to look upon this blog as I was planning my Christmas cards. I could not remember who I used last year so I referenced this. Bad bad idea. It seems that as long as I keep busy and distracted, I am able to go without crying. I am able to find the joys and blessings that surround me. But oh look out when I happen to look at a video or picture of my mother. Man I miss her so much, I see her face in my thoughts and in my everyday actions. I hate that she is gone and that one day there may be another woman in my father's life-someone that I will have to put up with knowing that he may need the companion but hating her for being where my mother should be. I want my father to be happy but it crushes me to think of her being replaced. I know that mom could be difficult or onry but I would give anything for just one day of her crazy bipolard drama. I sometimes feel like she was a dream or that she did not even exist. There are times when I try to smell her scent or hear her voice and it is like I am grasping at straws. THe memory is there but it is so abstract and so far that I cannot reach it. As Thanksgiving approaches, I find myself ok with the holiday ironically. Maybe because with MOm the holidays were also so stressful and filled with so much anger. It is the everyday events that I am reminded most of my mom, the desire to share Mackenzie's accomplishments with or Connors crazy injuries. It is watching Dad redo his entire house and feel as though it is so unfair that she wasn't around to watch it happen. My insides scream just to talk to her and hold her. I have crumbled tonight, tears pour out of my soul and my heart throbs with sadness. That horrible knot in your throat that makes it so difficult to breath smothers my sobs. Why is death so hard, so difficult to accept and move passed. Why does she seem so far away her mere memory is becoming so distant that I struggle to remember the memories.
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