For the last couple weeks I have been thinking about this letter... To be honest, I had no idea what I would say. Almost like running into an old acquaintance after another year has passed... You can't cover everything they've missed--there's just no way. And you can't pretend like you saw each other yesterday, because there's too many holes that need filling in.
So last night I pictured me standing in front of you...
And I started crying immediately at that thought.
Just me and you looking face to face and talking like we've done too many times to count.
And the words started pouring out of my fingertips too fast to process.
So now as my tears hit the key board one by one, I write this letter to you....
As I picture you in front of me, all I can dream of is a hug. Not one of those fake one-handed back pats or cold side hugs that I get from time to time.... but a real, warm, tight squeeze of a hug that says "I'm here." and "Everything is going to be ok." and "I'm proud of you." and "I love you." all at once. I miss those hugs, Mama. What I wouldn't give for just one more.....
Yesterday that night popped in my head. I try not to think of that night, if it's avoidable at all. But Suddenly I was standing in the back of that room....Your old bedroom.. I was invisible and silent and watched the hardest night of my life play out in front of me like a movie. I saw us holding you. I watched you breathing deeper and slower. I saw me not letting myself cry until you were gone. I was scared but somehow calm, (a gift from God, perhaps). We laid our hands and our hearts on you... and together, we watched you go.... and it hurt so bad, Mama. It was excruciating and scary... and yet peaceful and beautiful at the same time. And while I am so glad we were with you in that moment, I hate for it to replay in my mind. The rerun hurts almost as much as the original moment. I watched myself close my eyes tight when I realized you were really gone... and I could vividly feel the sting in my heart all over again. Before walking out of the room that night, I pressed my face to yours, and I kissed your forehead. When I left the room, I couldn't go back in again. I couldn't touch you again after that. I couldn't bare to feel that the warmth had fled your body. You had fled your body. After making the necessary calls, the three of us sat silently in the living room. In that moment we were helpless little kids all over again and simultaneously any youth left in us was drained dry and left a hard wisdom behind... We were sitting separately. We were processing what had just happened individually. We did not speak. We did not embrace. The occasional sniffle was heard, but ultimately there was silence. The nurse came in and closed your door behind her. And soon the hearse was there. Still we sat..... Waiting for you to walk down the hall smiling and tell us all to perk up...... Waiting for someone... anyone to tell us what to do now..... Waiting to wake up from our nightmare.... Hurting horribly for our loss and feeling terribly relieved for your gain all at the same time...... Knowing in our hearts that everything was about to change drastically.
I'm ok, Mama. I really am. Actually, I'm great most of the time. I'll have a few really great months where I think of you, but I smile with each thought. It's during this time that I am so distracted with life that I don't hone in on the gaping hole in my heart. During this time I lean on the love that I have for God and the blind trust I have in His plan. It's during this time that I feel most complete. I feel grateful to have had any time with you at all and abundantly blessed to have had 29 years. This is me most of the time. Then, without warning, a holiday will sneak up, or something great or something hard will happen in my life and I'll slip and have a really bad couple of weeks. It's during this time that I can't stop thinking of you and the sting in my heart is too much to bear. When I am in this state, I tend to dwell on my confusion regarding God's plan. I often find myself vigorously wishing things were different..... wishing I had you back and life could go back to "normal". Most of this time I feel so alone. Even in a crowded room. Even among family. Even when I am laughing. Even when I am asleep. Right now, I am smack dab in the middle of a bad couple weeks. So for a few days now, the lump has rarely left my throat and the tears pour from my eyes with ease over something.... or nothing. So I pray. I pray hard. I pray nonstop. I pray straight through it. And ultimately, God lifts me and soothes my pain. It is my relationship with God that has pulled me through the last three years. Him and Him alone.
Things have changed a lot since you have been gone. Some of such changes, I have no control over and am slowly learning to accept. Others are beautiful and part of the progression and maturity of one's life. I would elaborate, but I know you see. I know you always see. It is that single thought that pulls me through when I feel like no one understands me. I know you are there. And I know you will always "get" me.
I miss you.
I miss you.
God help me, I miss you so much.
The fact that it has been three years kills my heart. Who would have thought we could go this long without seeing each other? or talking? I often refer to you as my "best friend" and though I know you played that role for each of us, Me, Ronnie, Josh and your siblings and so many more...you truly were my best friend. My only best friend. And that is what I miss most of the time. Our friendship. I think the loss of a mother, though significant and tragic, would be manageable more so than the loss of my buddy and confidante and everyday hang out partner... It is this loss that has yet to heal and threatens to never do so.
I love that I constantly see you in my girls' smiles. I hear your sweet laugh in their little giggles. I feel you in their embrace. I love when I get to see you and talk to you in my dreams. They are welcomed visits and and I cherish each one more than the last. I love that I feel you in the warm sun and see you in the twinkling stars and smell you in the autumn air. It is in those moments that I remember you will never truly leave me.
As I bring this letter to a close, I want to assure you that I am really really happy. I have such a beautiful life, Mama. I want you to know that though I miss you so incredibly much, I really do know how blessed I am. And I am so, so thankful. And I promise I am, oh so aware, of how precious each moment is and how each breath is a gift from God....
And I am beyond grateful for each one He gives me.
Don't worry about me, Mama. I am now, and will forever be, your child. And you raised me strong.
So much comfort and strength comes from my knowing we will be reunited when Father calls me Home.
Until that beautiful day, when I get that sweet hug I long for,
you keep looking down
and
I'll keep looking up.
I love you Mama.
Bushel and a peck,
Hug around the neck..
and all my heart.
Love,
Nikki
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