Sunday will mark two years since we lost our sweet Missy. Leading up to this week I felt okay. I thought it might not be as hard as it was last year. And I guess it isn't exactly. It is at least very different, although hard in it's own ways. I have not obsessed with what was happening two years ago at this exact moment the way I did last year, and for that I am grateful. But with each passing day I have felt this tightening around my heart as it breaks a little more, again and again, over our families greatest loss. This morning it once again became a little hard to breath, the grief literally stealing my breath as it pressed on my heart.
I have began to notice that Henry doesn't remember his Aunt Mimi like he used to. He does remember her still, but not clearly, not like before. The telling and retelling of stories keep her real to him, but I see that she is becoming something so far into his past that he cannot quite hold onto the real her versus the stories of her. And that absolutely shatters my heart.
Days and weeks and months have passed. And now years. Years is plural too. Two years since I last kissed her face and told her how very special she is to me. Two years since she held the babies. Two years since our family was complete. Two years of moving forward in time, of living our lives without her here. And it is okay, we are okay, but damn it, it hurts like hell. Some days more than others, and today is a really really hard day.
I miss you every single day. There is less light in my life without you here. There is less light in all of our lives. You are beloved and you are so very missed.