Home.

Today, I brought you home.  What’s left of you.  I did it your way, Mom, even though you knew how I felt about that.   I also know how you felt.  I stopped crying long enough to look normal to the sister and everyone.   Now, I am in my room, so no need.  I will grieve however I want in here.  I had a nice drive home.  A little windy.  I talked with you on the way home.  I know you heard me up there.  I know you would love this urn that the sister picked out for you.  Surprisingly, very nice.  It has a beautiful butterfly on it with a long poem off to the side.  Eventually,  I will be able to read the whole thing.  I’ve barely made it past the first two lines.

They are all out there eating dinner.  I told them to just save mine, I will go get it here soon.  Not like they all eat together.  They are all spread out, of course.  I’m in here watching my Kindle, per usual.

Oh, goodness, me, Mom, this making it without you stuff.  I just do not know how.  I wish you were here to tell me.  I wish there was a magic wand to wave in the ar to help me make it.  I was reading some things online.  Some of the advice was to go and do something that we would have done together.  No.  Why would I do that?  You wouldn’t be there. About the only thing I do alone, now, that we did together, is drink coffee.  And that hasn’t been every day, per our usual.

I just love and miss you so much.