Life Without Mother

Dear Mom,

How is it that even after a week of (literally) light-heartedness, a wave of sorrow can sweep over me in one moment?
This roller-coaster ride of emotions and grief just whips me all over the place, my heart becoming heavy and then light and then heavy all over again. And it’s all over the same track. The same general sorrows overtake my soul. I miss you. I want my momma. I want to be able to call you everyday just because I can. I want everything to be as it was. This is too much change. But these are all selfish desires. Justified, yes. Satisfiable, no. At least, not as I want them satisfied.
I have come to accept the big life changes that have already occurred (the first being, of course, your leaving for our eternal Home) and that certain future changes are coming and necessary. However, just because I accept them doesn’t mean I have to always be okay with them or like them.
Also, how is it that I can love someone so much, yet the thought of them being the reason for one of my life changes wrench my heart at the thought?
How I wish that I could just have one more conversation with you! There is so much that I wish to do, to say, to ask.
I visited your grave tonight after our homecoming football game. Dad, the girls, Mrs. Rhonda, and Selena came to the game, after which we went to dinner and then drove the hour to Shreveport to visit the place your physical body lay. It was like that final nail in the coffin (metaphorical pun intended) over a day filled with the what ifs of what it would have been like if you were here instead. It was a fun day, filled with happy memories but there was the constant undertone of something—really, someone—missing. It’s almost like a ghost but more like a ghost of a ghost. Mental images melding with physical sight; imagination intruding upon reality. Mental analysis of possible reactions and responses based upon known personality traits and previous responses to previous situations. Altogether, a tear-jerker of the entire soul. How is it that you can be so far away and yet so close in my memories? Why does my heart hold a hope of seeing you again even before I follow you Home? Why can’t I just let go and move on?

Your daughter,
Hannah