The Weight of Things

Some days I walk outside and the air is just the right temperature. The temperature that breeds memories. And it feels like every single memory I've ever had of her, every single one hits me as hard as it can right in my chest. I can't breathe and I have to stop... I have to stop because I have instantly become aware that there is a gaping hole in my life, this huge dark hole in myself, and it seems for a second like that emptiness is right there in front of me and if I take a step forward I am going to fall into it.

There are some days when I feel her presence so strongly that I am sure I can see her out of the corner of  my eye. I hold my head perfectly still, because I know if I turn my head to see she will disappear. Some days when I swear I can hear her laughing along with us. Some nights where she is so clear in my dreams that I am sure she was never gone. I have had numerous experiences too sacred to mention here, experiences that let me know with no room for doubt that she is still my mom and still a constant presence in my life.

There are so many days when I still feel like a little girl. When I need to be listened to, when I need to be tucked in, when I need to be held, when I need to cry, when I need to question, when I need to be built up, when I need a recipe, when I need a laugh, when I need unconditional love and acceptance, when I need to feel pretty, when I need a band-aid, when I need honesty, when I need someone who knows me better than I do. When I need someone to talk to. When I need someone who doesn't need to talk to understand. When I need someone who doesn't need to talk to make it better.

I still miss her.

I still need her.

And I feel guilty about it.

Because I need to be over it. Because I feel like everyone around me is thinking that too. Because I worry that if someone saw me cry about it they would think I was weak. Because I am suppose to be happy all the time. Because life is suppose to go on. Because so many of my friends have been through so much more. Because I know families are forever so it shouldn't matter that she had to leave early. Because it was 5 years ago. Because I should have enough faith to allow the Savior to take my pain away.

Most days are good. Most days are amazing! I know that families are forever. I have given my pain over to my Savior, and I am happy. I try to use my experiences to help others. I have done what I can to learn and grow from it. I know I am blessed. But I miss her, I need her, and she isn't here, and it sucks!


  1. *hugs*. Don't ever be ashamed of your tears. Remember how Christ WEPT with Mary and Martha. He knew in mere moments he would raise Lazarus from the dead. But he also knew the broken hearts that Lazurus sisters carried. He didn't ask them to stop. Instead he joined with them. What an example for us. To mourn with those that mourn. Annie, anyone that judges you for missing your mom doesn't deserve your concern. Miss her. I give you permission. (not that that means much). But I KNOW, that she misses you too. She may be near, but I am certain she wishes those same things you do. She misses wrapping her arms around you and talking. I just know it. I know it because I am certain that my sweet son misses me too. It just makes sense. We were sealed for eternity. So part of us, is part of them. When you are missing some part of you, how could you not notice? And for the rest of you life, how could you not notice? So, be sad Annie. Don't be ashamed. You love her, and the tears are an expression of that deep, enduring love. Sorry, for going on. I am thinking of you today. Sending you cyber hugs, and real prayers

  2. You don't need to "get over it". Losing your mom isn't something that people get over. Don't feel weak, you're not! People don't judge you when you talk about it, their hearts are ripped out thinking what it would be like if they had lost their mom. And thinking of how hard it would be. <3