Please give me my mom back. You've enjoyed her for six months, and while I'm sure she's made you giggle a few times with some nasty jokes and taught you some new cuss words, I'd like her back now. I miss her. A lot.
See, here's what I don't get- why didn't you warn me? On Saturday, I had a mom. On Sunday, I didn't. Just like that- 13 hours later and I'm an orphan. No red flags, no doctor telling us we might want to "make plans"...nothing. Just gone. Do not pass Go, do not collect $200.
As you well know, most of the time my life is so hectic that I can pretend I'm coping. But lots of times, especially at night when everyone is asleep, my mind starts churning...and I can't stop it. I've cried more tears this past six months than in all my years combined...I know you've heard, because I've said your name plenty of times. I feel completely damaged, like nothing will ever be the same again, my emotions will never be controlled again, and life will never be normal again. Will it be?
I know she's up there, playing board games with Aunt Jeane or watching Hee-Haw with Grandpa...but I'd like her back now. I need her back now. Grieving is a nasty thing, and I'm not dealing with it half as well as I pretend to be.
It stings less than it did three months ago. But you didn't tell me that the pain lies there, inside your soul, waiting. It's like a big gaping hole that's always present. One moment I'm fine, the next, I'm sobbing in my car in the parking lot of Target and I don't even know what happened. The emptiness and the sorrow are always there, and all it takes is a song, a smell, a picture or a memory to bring it out. And then...it's as fresh as March 2, 2008.
So, all I'm saying God, is that you have millions and millions of souls up there to hang out with- can't you give back just one? Please? Because the soul she left behind here on Earth needs her back. Badly.
Thanks for listening,