Four Years

Dear Mom,

Tomorrow marks 4 years since we lost you. You were always so tough, and you fought as hard as you could, but angiosarcoma was tougher.

Uncle Ronnie survived so much in his life; when he got COVID, I thought “He’ll beat it. He’s beat everything else- nothing can take him down!” Imagine my shock that morning when Bridget called me to beg me to pray and then Cassie called just a few minutes later to tell me he was gone.

How has it been so long, but still feel like it was only yesterday? I guess the way time passes changes a lot after you lose someone you love so much.

I don’t think any of us will ever forget that day. Our entire family was forever changed in the span of just hours, in the most unimaginable chain of events possible. How could we lose not one but two of the heads of our family on the same day, just hours apart?  I think we’re all still a little dumbfounded by that. My heart hurts for Uncle Perry… In just one day he lost both of his siblings. I can’t imagine losing mine, and it makes me feel so sad for him.

So much has changed since you left us… Our family has splintered in a lot of ways in the last four years, and it’s sad to see. We all still love each other and care about each other, of course- that will never change. But things are definitely not the same as they were four years ago.

I often wonder what you and Uncle Ronnie would say about things if you were still here with us. I don’t doubt that you watch over us all the time, but I would give anything to be able to hear your voices again and hear your thoughts and advice about everything going on in our family, in the world, etc.

I miss hearing you laughing. I miss the family gatherings where the kids would be painting Uncle Ronnie’s hair with hair chalk, or you and Ronda would be singing karaoke in Brad’s shop. I miss your warm hugs, and the way you’d get so mad if somebody dared to cross one of your family members (especially your grandkids!). I got your fiery temper, though, so it still lives on- though I am a little calmer than you were. I guess I got that part from Dad. 😉

The older I get, the more I see you staring back at me from the mirror. My graying hair and glasses make it incredibly obvious that I am definitely your daughter- and I couldn’t be prouder. When your classmates and old friends tell me I laugh like you or that I smile like you, it makes me feel so happy, like you’re standing there next to me “poppin’ buttons” with pride.

I miss you more than I ever thought possible, Momma. I need you now more than ever, and I know you’re with me, but I wish so bad that I could have one of your hugs and that calming reassurance that everything is going to be ok.

Just know that no matter what, I will always remember you and honor yours and Uncle Ronnie’s memories together with the rest of our family. No matter what happens in our lives, and what changes may come through the years, you will never not be missed, and our family will never let your spirit fade.