Letters to Momma-7- 9/11/2020
Dear Momma,
September 11th 2020. 6 years since we said goodbye. Gesh I jumped right into some BS there, didn’t I?! Starting this anniversary off with shenanigans I guess. Sorry Momma, my bad. That’s a lie. I never said it. I couldn’t. I vividly remember trying. I can still feel the words stuck in my throat. I can hear someone saying “she needs to hear it” and “she needs to know it’s ok to let go”. But, I. Just. Couldn’t. I said it in my head. I said it with my whole heart, but I couldn’t verbalize it. I couldn’t let the last thing I said to you be a lie. Because in that moment I sincerely didn’t know if it was ok for you to go. Let me rephrase... I didn’t know if I was going to be ok when you let go. I couldn’t fathom a reality where I had to let you go. I couldn’t envision a world without you. I was desperate to hold on. I knew the right thing, the fair thing, the selfless, loving thing to do was the one thing I didn’t want to do. Still, I didn’t say it. Jackie fell on that sword for us and said it first. She didn’t really say good bye either but she did let you know it was ok, that we’d be ok. - Thanks Mac. Always so strong. Just like her. I remember writing the eulogy. How easy it was to write about you and all that you were, scratch that, are to me, Joey, and Jackie. To your grand babies, sons, family and friends. I could of kept writing forever. It actually brought some much needed comfort in the moment. That is until I realized it had to end. The eulogy, it had to end. Panic set in. That lump in my throat returned. Those words came back to taunt me. The end of the eulogy, the end of the funeral, the end, the end just kept coming for me. The end is for goodbyes. I remember wishing, praying for a goodbye with Pops and there it was, I had one in my reach this time and I didn’t want it, I didn’t take it. Irony, I suppose. I stared at that computer, ready to delete the whole thing and let my sisters know someone else was going to need to do the eulogy. All because I couldn’t say goodbye. A silent battle was raging in my head. I owed this to you. You deserved it. How could I let you down like this. Then it happened. It came to me. You came to me. I remembered back on our life and watching you conquer countless moments just like this and instantly knew. I didn’t have to say goodbye. You never did either. It was not a requirement. It was never the promise. The promise was to carry you with me. To take you with me. Because the truth is you weren’t ready. You still wanted to see all that this life had in store for your family and all the blessings to come. And that’s the promise us girls made to you. That your legacy, your memory, your love would stay right where it belongs, with us. People may get tired of hearing it, reading it, whatever. A promise is a promise. Yes I dread the bad days, but I always relish in every moment I get to speak on you and all that you are. Any moment I can I love to shine a light on the person you were. It inspires and motivates me to be that same kind of mother, wife, sister, aunt, friend. And I hope it does for others as well. That was the promise. That’s why goodbye will never be said. Thank you for instilling your love and lessons so deep that they’ll be with us forever. September 11th 2020. 6 years. And I still turn to you for advice, guidance, and comfort. 6 years and you still deliver all of that and more. Eternal gratitude. So I’ll end this the only way I know how..... I love you Momma and glad you’re mine. Sing us a song.
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