This evening I've been on an inexplicable crying jag. It's not the anniversary of anything. I haven't been delving into the photo archives. Nothing happened to upset me. Nevertheless, I feel this overwhelming longing to hear my mother's voice, to be able to tell her everything that's been happening lately. This doesn't happen as often as it used to, but when it does it hurts just as much as it did the first time I realized that I would never, ever on this earth have the comfort of knowing that I could run to her with my problems.
As I sat in front of the computer contemplating why I feel this way, the screen saver began its never ending parade of photos, old and new. The old ones were oddly comforting. The new ones were the ones that today tore at my heart. I looked at how much Daniel has grown and instead saw all of his milestones that she'll never see....this beautiful grandson that carries her blood who will never get to know what an amazing woman his grandmother was. My cousins who loved to bake with Aunt Pam when she came to visit....she'll never see them walk down the aisle as breathtaking brides. If I ever do again find love, she won't be there to make sure that I don't make the same mistake twice. It took us so long to build the relationship and the friendship that we had the last few months of her life, only to have it snatched away too quickly.
Tonight I weep, not for the past, but for the future that seems so bleak without my mother, my protector, my defender, my friend.
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