Sometimes I wish there was a phone line to heaven. There are times, like now, where I remember things from growing up and I want so badly to talk to her, to communicate with her. I want to talk to her about things, ask her questions. I want her recipe for something. I want to hug her. I want to see her smile at me. I want to watch her interact with my babies.
I wish so badly, to talk to her one more time. Even if we didn’t see eye to eye while I was growing up, I’d like to think we would get along now.
This year marks 12 since her suffering ended. She was in a lot of pain, she was confused, she was worried she was a burden on us (which she wasn’t). In the end she wasn’t her usual self, she wasn’t sleeping, she wasn’t eating, she was my mom, but not at the same time.
She’s not suffering now, she’s pain free, cancer free… she’s free. She’s watching down on us all from heaven, and I’d like to think she’s smiling.