I was thinking about you today. In fact, I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately. It’s that way when the holidays roll around I guess. Remember how you would split your time with the family at Christmas? One year, you’d come spend most of the day with us and the next you’d spend it with your son and his family. I think this would be our year. I miss that.
Recently, I quit my office job and started working from home. I write and edit for other people now. I wonder what you would think of that. I know you believe in hard work, but I’m unsure if you’d approve of this. It isn’t getting up and going to a job – I sit here at my computer all day. Some times I don’t even get out of my pajamas. I’m sure you’d find that disgraceful. I wish you were here to talk to about it.
There are days that I feel pretty down on myself because I’m not doing better, or I’m not making enough money. I know you would have something encouraging to say to me or some kind of “pull yourself up by your boot straps” mentality to expound on me. Ironically, I live only about five miles from where you lived when you died. I could visit you almost everyday, but you’re not there anymore.
My husband and I have been married almost sevens years now. Sometimes that number only reminds me of how long you’ve been gone because you were not at the wedding. You were missed deeply then too. John treats me so well and I’m glad you got to meet him before you left. He wishes he could have gotten to know you better before you got sick. I can’t believe you’ve been away that long. The pain in my heart sometimes makes it feel like it was only yesterday.
How I wish I could talk with you right now. To ask you how you dealt with life’s ups and downs, how you handled your husband dying at such a young age, how you felt when other loved ones passed away and did you follow any of your dreams. Did you suffer depression the way Mom and I do? How did you deal with it? What made you so tough and resilient? Or was it just an act? If not, how can I be like you?
It’s been a rough day and I could use one of your speeches to pick me up out of this hole I’m in. You’d probably say “Talk to God,” but even that’s difficult when I can’t hear Him speak either.
But I bet you’re having the time of your life right now – in heaven with Grandpa and all your siblings. I know how much you missed all of them through the years and I’m so happy that you get to see them again now. Some days I can’t wait to join you. I’m so glad too that you aren’t in pain anymore, but it doesn’t take away the loss I feel when I want to get in my car and go see you, but then remember you’re no longer here.
I’ll let you go now. I just wanted to try and talk to you in some way and to let you know I miss you. I’m sorry I didn’t take advantage of our time together more when you were here. I pray that someday we’ll be able to chat, hug and laugh again with one another.