Missing you comes in waves. Tonight I'm drowning.

I learned pretty early in the life that no one lives forever. And just because you learn it early, it doesn't make it any easier when you're reminded of it.

I miss her on Sundays the most. I don't know if it's because that's the day she died, or if it's because we always talked on Sunday. Maybe a little of both. More often than not, I'm off on Sundays (excluding flag football season). It was always our day to catch up. The last few months of her life, I'd call her as I was leaving church. She'd always answer. I miss that. I miss it every Sunday. I guess I really miss it everyday.

This was posted a year ago...

And this was posted 2 years ago...

Social media really can be a great comfort. I know there are people in the world that don't use it for good, but I'm so glad I have it. The Timehop app is a blessing and a curse. It reminded me about the 2 pictures above. Nice to know that a year ago I was sitting in the den with my mom. She was doing well then. The post from 2 years ago was right after we lost Patty. Funny how 2 years later those lyrics are still relevant.

I've also been able to save emails (duh), texts and voicemails. The following link is to one of the many voicemails I've gotten from her: Mom

Hearing her voice can be painful sometimes, but then there are times when I crave it and I'm glad I have it. 

Sometimes it feels like she's in Monroeville, sitting on the couch catching up on HGTV with my old laptop in her lap finishing up another picture book on SnapFish. On the bad days, I imagine that's exactly where she is. Except she's not sick. Who knows, maybe that's what she's doing in heaven. I imagine we'll have a lot of picture books to look through when we get there.

Wish you were here. Wish we were together. I love you.