Mom,
Despite my crazy life with school, scholarships, work, and wonderful coffee trips... my mind always ends up thinking about you. I love that…
Why does it seem so many people are afraid of admitting that they miss someone who has passed on?
I was talking about this with someone last night…
She was asking all these questions about you… if you haunt me? If I’m mad at you for not haunting me? If I ever stop thinking about you? What my view on working is now…is work really worth it? Some of these questions made me laugh, but they are valid. She now understands me better…she forgot what it felt like to lose someone you love…and sadly God decided to recently remind her.
Why are we so afraid of admitting we miss those who were taken away from us?
We talked about how sometimes we all feel guilty for bringing up the name of someone who passed away because it may make others feel uncomfortable.
I realized that in a way this blog is a perfect example of that.
I don’t find anything awkward or weird about me talking to you through my writing… It doesn’t feel awkward writing you letters on here….and you know why? Because I feel like writing to you keeps you alive. Maybe not in the physical sense...but your spirit. It reminds me of what a large part of my life you were... and are. Your body is gone, your voice- I can no longer hear…but the lessons you taught me, the love you shared with me, the strength you brought me... remains.
So, yes- I realize that maybe my blog entries make people feel uncomfortable…Maybe my entries leave people speechless because they don’t know what to tell me …but in all honesty, I don’t care.
My entries, each time I write, its like you’re here again..its like we get to reconnect.It reminds me of your story and your hugs.
Sure, like I was telling a friend last night… I miss your voice…the way you would say “Can I have a glass of water with some ice…” or “ Shelby…help me” when you got stuck in Tomb Raider…the way your tennis shoes sounded when you walked in the kitchen before going to the gym…and the way you sang Train on the way to Santa Cruz every summer…but those things aren’t gone. When I write I remember those things… when I cry, laugh, and live those things are in my memory.
So, NO. I’m not going to think twice when I say your name…or when my heart yearns for you…because who cares if it makes other people uncomfortable. At least I’m brave enough to remember you and not just let it pass me by. I will move on, I will grow and learn, and the pain may begin to minimize but no matter what I’m still going to remember you. Whether that’s through writing or telling stories about you. I will be stronger than others. I will be brave enough to admit I miss you because it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Its not something that can be fixed, but rather has to be acknowledged. You were a part of my life…and now your story is a part of my life. I will not forget. I will take what life has given me and I will admit when I have bad days or anger- because those moments make me who I am. They make me stronger.
Stop hiding. Start living. Embrace the life you were given…not just the happy moments, but the difficult ones too.
Love always and forever,
Your daugher
Brittany
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