Until We Meet Again
Well Mom, it’s that time of year again.
I buy some flowers, drive out to the cemetery, and gently place them at your gravesite.
I cry like only a child missing their Mother can.
I’m reminded in vivid clarity of all of the days leading up to and including your passing.
I recount all of the things that happened in yet another year without you here, wishing I could tell you everything.
It’s been two whole years since we said goodbye. It feels surreal living in a world without you. The first 40 years of my life seemed so safe and secure. I was blissfully unaware how quickly everything could come crashing down. I miss feeling in control of my life. But I read somewhere that control is just a delusion enjoyed by those unacquainted with grief.
I try every day to get up and live a life that would make you proud.
To be fearless in the face of uncertainty like you were.
To be kind and gentle in a world that so often feels undeserving.
To be the man, son, and husband you always knew I could be.
Despite time pushing me further and further away from the sound of your voice or the feel of your hugs, I cling to your memory, holding it tightly on the best and worst days. I wear a memorial bracelet with “Until we meet again” imprinted on it to remind me that your death was not the ending…only a temporary parting. I love you and miss you so much.
Until we meet again, Mom.