February 23, 2013

24 Feb

Hello Moother, 

Tomorrow I’m having my annual Oscar party. I’m pretty excited. I’ve had more RSVP’s than I did last year. I know Shannon will definitely show, but we’ll see about the rest. 

I’ve been thinking about how much I miss our phone calls. It’s been really hard for me to not hear your voice everyday. I was making up my menu, and I wished you were around to help me with some ideas for the pizzas I’m going to make. 

Ma, I miss you. I miss you so much that it hurts my heart every day. Every morning. Every Afternoon. Every Evening. I know you’re “in a better place” now, as so many people have been reminding me, but I want you here. 

I was thinking about the day you died, and I started to freak out because I kept thinking about how you stopped fighting. When I arrived you weren’t all there because of the pain meds, did you feel like we were already mourning you and decided to give up? Daddy mentioned that if we could get your strength up you might be able to do more therapy. What if we hadn’t told you it was okay for you let go? Would you still be here getting stronger? Could I still talk to you on the phone? Could I still see you? 

Oh God. 

Ma, if this is the case, I need to know it’s okay. I’m worried that it’s because we too sure you were out of time. Oh God. Is that it? 

I can’t take the pain of not being able to talk to you. 

It’s so weird without around. It’s like I’m in reality, but it’s a Twilight Zone version of it. It’s awful. I know I’m lucky to have Justin, my sisters, Daddy, and my friends, but my world is not right. It’s broken.

I’ve been having panic attacks since I got back from the funeral. I’ve had one everyday for two weeks. I don’t know why I’m having them, but I am. I think part of it is the stress of getting all my work stuff taken care of, my desperate want to have a baby. It might be a fear that I’m going to get sick or worry that Michelle or Joanna might get sick. My heart beats so fast, and I can’t breathe thinking that everything is going to crumble or shatter. 

It just sucks. When people ask me how I am doing, all I can say is okay. It’s the best I can do without lying or telling the real truth that I’m not okay. I’m not great. I feel guilty smiling. I want to say that my world is not right, but it’s none of anyone’s business. 

I also can’t believe you also lived with so much pain and never let it show. How were you so strong? I feel like such a weakling. 

Still, I know have to take the days one and a time. I know that soon God will bless Justin and me with a baby or three (or four) and while I’ll still hurt, I’ll be numb from it and it won’t show through my face, and I won’t need to cry everyday. 

Just know, I miss you. 

I’ll be okay eventually. 

Talk to you soon,




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