Remembering

Well, here it is, two years gone by. I still have a message from you in my voice mail, did you know that? Every 90 days the nice automated voice from Qwest asks me if I'd like to keep it. I always say yes.

I always figured you'd be around to help guide me along the path of life. I know it's asking a lot of the universe, to have not only an awesome mom but a second mom too, but I just took it for granted that my good fortune would continue in that regard. And of course, I know there are millions on this planet who have lost so many more people than I have, and lost them in horrible and traumatic ways, to injustice, or deprivation, or inexplicable disaster, or stone-cold evil. I know how lucky I am, in the big scheme of things.

It appears that, instead of being my guide in the second half of life, your fate instead was to teach me about illness and death, to guide me across that threshold of knowledge - inevitable, in the sense that everyone gets there sooner or later, but life changing, in the sense that you can never go back and be the same person again, once you know what you know. I am who I am right now because I experienced your dying and death. So I suppose, simultaneously, I wouldn't give up what that has taught me, the person it has made me, and yet - what wouldn't I give to have you back?

You said that your spirit was strong (and it was), that we'd feel your presence. I really thought that would be true, but you rarely come to me in dreams, I haven't had any of the spooky encounters that you used to have with those who'd gone before you. It's a little disappointing, but on the other hand, more than one person has suggested that I'm channeling you somehow. Which, if it's true, would explain why I don't seem to encounter you outside of myself as much as I expected. You're in here.

Anyway - hey there. I'm doing my best to pay attention.