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Remembering Her
I miss her, sometimes too much. The smallest things make me feel closest to her. I would do anything for her to just come back. Even if it were just for a day. I just wish I could remember her. Her personality, her voice, her smile, her face. Her. I wish she was here with me to tell me how proud she is of me, how beautiful I am, how much I look like her, that I'll be okay. And I don't have to cry. To say I love you. I just wish I could hear her say, “I love you, Mikayla.” Because I love her. I know she loves me too but I just want to hear it. I want her voice to tell me, not my thoughts. I want to be able to say, “I love you too, mom.” But I can't.
When I flip through picture albums of me when I was a baby I see a happy little girl. It boggles my mind that I was that happy all the time, when something so terrible was bringing me down. Something that pains my heart when I think about it and turns my eyes into waterfalls. How? How was I so strong when I was only one year old? How could I be so strong when my own mother had just died? Maybe it was because I didn't understand what was going on. Maybe because I chose to deny it.
I don't have any memories of her. No matter how hard I try, her voice will never replay over and over in my head. I will never be able to hear something that reminds me of sparks of her personality. It's hard to think about the fact that if pictures didn't exist, I would have no clue what her face looks like.
The only thing I can do is infer. It's really hard to understand that she will never physically be there for me. Ever. When I have a child, when I get married, my prom day, my first major heart break. There will be no mother to comfort her little girl.
I wish I could let go of all the fantasies in my head. The fantasies that life would be perfect if she was still with me. That if she was here, I would be the happiest kid around. But I know I wouldn't be.
I wish all of those thoughts would just fly off into the distance along with the butterflies. Each butterfly could carry a fantasy, the butterflies themselves are a fantasy and they could just all go away. I wouldn't have to get upset when people talk about butterflies because I know she loved them. I wouldn't think life would be amazing if she were the one taking care of me. I wouldn't believe that every single thing she would have done would have been perfect. I wouldn't tell myself if she was around my brother wouldn't tease me.
Death effects a person. A lot. It effects a lot more people than me. I never knew any different. But I wish I had memories. Memories would be nice. I would cherish them. They would be more valuable than gold. So to anyone who lost someone important, cherish the memories if you have them. Never stop thinking about those snippets from the past. Let that special person always invade your thoughts. Don't forget that person. Forget to forget about them. Remember to care for that member in your heart.
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