We must love life now.

I'm missing my mom. At the big stuff, like graduation and birthday parties, and the little stuff, when I'm eating dinner or laying in bed wanting to tell her something.

I have a feeling life is about to get really, really good, and she's not hear to enjoy it with us, and it kills me inside.

I miss her, but that's only part of it. It hurts so much that she's not a part of this world anymore. I hurt for me, and I hurt for my sister, my mom's brother, my future children. And most of all, I hurt for her.

I'm ok, really, most of the time.  More than ok, I am happy, and have feel my momentum building.  I am ok.  Except, my mom is gone, forever, and there is no one else in world I want to call more, or hug more, or laugh with more. I'm lucky, though, because I didn't just learn that when I lost her. I knew.

I haven't been able to write about this. I haven't returned many phone messages or emails. I'm so full of pain and joy and exasperation and excitement and sadness, and the person I want to tell about it can't take my calls. It's difficult to write or talk, because I feel like I can't do the situation justice -- my mom and her life, and my feelings.  The loss is huge, and our lives and plan  have changed drastically.

Tomorrow, June 21st, Miss Amy, sister number three, the lady with awesome robot chair and the hilariously foul mouth, turns 24 -- our first major holiday without Mom.

On Saturday, we celebrated -- we sisters, along with our associated men, our mom's bro and sis-in-law, our dad and step-mom, main man's awesome parents, our step-sister and her adorable family, a faux-cousin and his partner, and a neighbor.

We decked the house out with decorations for the original birthday luau, six years ago. The photobooth built for the wedding made a return. We drank and ate and danced and smiled and laughed. It was a great day.

 

On Father's Day, we swam at the local community center -- we girls, main man, main man's fam, and our Dad. It was great. The best father's day in years.

Today we saw main man's folks off after an awesome couple of days together.   We had dinner and fun with my rad Auntie who has been loving us up like crazy and her husband -- my mom's bro and our uncle. It was another great day.

We are SO lucky, my mom would be sure to tell us. There are people laying in beds dying of cancer. There are people with no family. There are people with "real" problems. And we are so lucky.

I feel lucky. But I wish, desperately, that a few things were very very different.