I've anticipated this chapter of my life (becoming a mom without my mom) being the hardest in my grief journey. But, now that I’m here, I miss her so much more than I could have imagined.
The things I expected to miss were her advice, her cheerful encouragement, her emotional support, her physical presence, and the way I know she would've spoiled her granddaughter. I also knew I'd miss her help and her love. But what I didn't realize (or maybe couldn't put into words) was how much I'd ache to simply share this chapter of my life with her.
I want to blow up Mom's phone with a million cute pictures. I want to tell her how each bath time goes. I want to call her just so she can laugh at Charlee's diaper blowouts. I want to watch Charlee stare into her Gramma's eyes with a mind full of wonder.
I wish Mom could have this time with me... not just help me through it, but to be in it with me. Because more than her guidance or reassurance, I wish she was here to share the ordinary, mundane, awful, amazing, beautiful parts of this chapter. I wish she was a part of the laughter, the baby snuggles, and all the small moments that make up this new life I’m living.
Each new chapter of my life holds both love and loss. And so I keep turning the pages without her, but I carry her with me through every page and every word.
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