I can’t sleep again. Every night before I fall asleep I get lost in my thoughts of you. I think about the last morning I spent with you. I think about the conversation we had, the hugs we shared and the last time you called me on the phone that afternoon. I miss you calling me.
I always get lost replaying the good memories we shared. But then it ultimately leads me to the moment I saw you and realized you might be gone. Your body was so still and calm, yet mine was frantic and terrified. I almost ran away, you know. I almost left the house because I was so scared. I hate that moment. It taunts me.
The night I should hardly remember details of still replays over and over in my mind. The frightening and paralyzingly moments and words will not leave my body. Truth is, I don’t know if I want them to. I pray and I have asked and begged for peace. I have only considered asking God to take away the vivid and painful memories, the thoughts that enter my dreams and wake me up, I will be sweating and consciously can feel my body aching head to toe. These dreams happen frequently, sometimes multiple times in one week.
Some people don’t even know I still feel like this, or probably ever did. How could they not? They didn’t know you like I do, mom. They didn’t fight for you and love you in the unconditional way I do.
I always took the pain for you, it wasn’t even an option. Your worth it and that doesn’t change now. I don’t want to lose any of my thoughts and memories with you. Not even the terrifying ones that cause deep and piercing grief to my body.
Today was April first. Mom, I hate April so much. I hate the month I lost you almost just as much as I hate the day I lost you…