I’ve been missing you today and I haven’t done anything else. Missing you is hard work, you know.
It’s the only work I’ve done so intensely, so earnestly in my whole life. Tomorrow is your birthday again. And it’s only been one year. A year of bent time…. I feel the long crush of some minutes and the quick snap of some weeks.
Every morning I miss you.
During the day I miss you.
At night I miss you.
While I’m sleeping I miss you.
Just last night I told a man in my dreams, “I have twin sons, and they died.” Before I told him you died, I let the first part of my sentence linger. And I did it on purpose. Because in the first part of that sentence, I get to still have you. In between the happy and sad in that sentence, I have you. You’re mine, forever, in that place.
Missing you. I think it’s probably the only work I’ll do the rest of my life.
And I like to think that when I die, maybe I’ll be thinking of the first part of that sentence. Maybe so.
I have twin sons. I have James and Zachary. I have them.
Mine forever, our boys and I, in that place.
Everlasting Mama 