Seven years ago, I kissed her face, held her hand, whispered I love you and watched her take her last breath.
I am still so raw.
I miss her.
I miss her more and more as the years go on.
The void feels bigger somehow while the gap between my age, and the age at which she died gets smaller.
The five stages of grief feel like a never ending to do list.
I've dealt with the denial.
I'm way versed in the anger.
I gave up bargaining well into my mom's disease.
I think I'm stuck in the depression,
which means I have some time before acceptance.
I've written far more eloquent posts about the complexity of losing one's mom, of my losing my mom... and if you want, you can read one I wrote last year here.
But today, I just don't have it in me to write any more.
I love you Mommy.