“Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal”.
Tomorrow marks the first anniversary of my mother’s death. I can hardly wrap my brain around the fact that I’ve spent 364 days without hearing her voice. We used to talk. A LOT. Every day on the phone. Usually more than once. She was my sounding board. My own personal wikipedia. My dictionary. My source of constructive feedback (which I needed quite often). My cheerleader. My source of strength when life got confusing. Honestly I can’t even begin to articulate the place she held and still holds in my heart. I’m pretty sure she watches over me. Those days when disappointment hits hard, I can almost feel her arms wrapped around me.
Maybe in another year I’ll be able to think about her without tearing up. I’m not there yet. Might never get there. And that’s okay. This week, when my thoughts drifted back to my last days with her, I remembered the words to an old song that both of my parents enjoyed:
If I could make days last forever
If words could make wishes come true
I’d save every day like a treasure and then
Again, I would spend them with you.
–Jim Croce “Time in a Bottle”