Most of the time I say, “i’d give it all, all of it, for one more minute with her. Just one.”
But more of the time I realize these things that have happened to me, the people I’ve met, the things I’ve done, the love I have are all gifts from her.
She’s given me things she may never have been able to if she were still here.
Her death in some way has given me a drive, a priority, passion.
This is what I need to—have to think in order to understand.
Her death was and will be the biggest and deepest loss in my life. I did lose everything when I lost her. Many people quote this and I know it’s trite but it resonates, I truly believe, it’s “only after you’ve lost everything can you be anything.”
I have nothing else to lose because I lost it all 13 years ago. Part of me died that day when I said good bye. I cannot fail, I cannot disappoint, I cannot lose, cannot feel more pain, because I have felt it all already, exponentially, that cool September evening.
I tried once to be with her. I failed. For two reasons: first, my faith, deep down, made me realize I could never be with her if I was successful. Second, she and my father made me for a reason. I was created to do something and share something with someone or some people. My parents conceived me possibly out of guilt, out of second, third, or fourth chances to make their lives better, or try to make something better than what they were. My mother will not have died without leaving something extraordinary behind.
She is my greatest inspiration, my deepest love, my most trusted friend. Her guidance still shows me the way even after all these years. Love knows no bounds, not even death can stop this love. I never understood missing before her death. I live with emptiness without her here.
I am afraid to die, but I know that the first words I will hear in death will be hers. I know she and I will have an eternity to catch up. That’s why I need to live my life, push myself, make connections with new people, learn and do different things. I need to share with her all the things that I will do.
September first reminds me what I’ve lost but I will still continue to look forward to what I will do.