This is What it Is

Fight. That is what I am supposed to be doing. All of our children want me to fight. They want me to fight to be here. And they are all aware of the struggle it is for me to want to fight because honestly, I don’t want to if you aren’t here.

I want to lay down in bed and hold your pillows and just close my eyes and remember everything about you. Remember everything about our friendship and our relationship and our love. I want to shake my head at our stubbornness and the fights and tell the us from the past about this last week and urge you both to fight harder for each other. I’d specifically talk to me about it. I’d tell you to connect with the sister that you just got back in contact with recently, years ago. I’d hold you harder. Love you fiercely. And this time not be so damn selfish. Oh the things I’d tell past us.  Oh the way I’d do things differently.

But the truth of the matter is that I can’t. I can tell you all the things I want and hope you’ll hear me. Or watch me write these series of entries. But I can’t change anything. We were who we were and because of that it was amazing in and of itself.

Everyday I will keep whispering to you that I love you. Everyday I will hold your memories tight to me. Everyday I will miss you.