I miss you so much. I find myself thinking of you more than I ever imagined I might. Sometimes it feels peaceful, and other times I'm terribly sad. Today was a mix. Visiting, in the shade of a beautiful tree, whispering to you all the things I've wanted to say, I was so sad, but so at peace.
I like to think you'd be proud of me for how I'm handling these mama-challenges I never expected. It's in the moments of most intense challenge that I find myself wishing I could talk to you, seek your advice, hold onto your calm. But it's also in the moments of bliss that I wish you were here to share them with me.
I don't know what step I'm on in terms if grieving you. I don't think I've fully accepted that you are gone, and I don't know how to get to a place of peace about losing you just at the moment that our lives were really coming together. I'm hoping that visiting today, marking today with rosemary on your grave, and thinking of you with a mix of joy and mourning will help me move forward.
Steckley is having her baby any time now. We are all visualizing her birthing her today (at her request), wishing for a peaceful birth. I'm hoping she will come today. Somehow, the thought of a life coming into the world today feels like salve for losing such a beautiful life on this day three years ago. Perhaps Steckley's daughter will possess some of your beauty, calm, and deep wisdom. And perhaps you will be with Steckley, and give her strength, as she brings more life into this world.
You were one of the most amazing mamas I have ever known. You helped shape my conception of motherhood, and I am so grateful to have had you in my life, even though it was for far too short a time.
I miss you, love you, and today I honor you.
Posts
