It's a year today since my mom died.
I miss her everyday... every minute of every single day.
I miss the random phone calls at work: "How do you spell ______________."
Like I'm a dictionary. And I was... for her, on demand.
I miss spending the day together... antique or garden shopping, going out to lunch, checking out this new place or that favorite haunt.
I miss her asking my opinion about things.
I miss asking for her opinion about things.
I miss talking.
I miss cooking with her, helping her prep for a big family meal or a holiday celebration.
I miss everything about her. And I suppose I always will... and that's okay. That's the way it is.
* * * * *
It was Father's Day on Sunday. We haven't seen or talked to each other in a few years... for various reasons, each our own... but I took a chance and called him on Sunday. We had a nice chat.
"We still have Dad."