I make fewer phone calls.
But more of them are to my dad.
I cry a little more.
But not that much more.
I hold on a little tighter.
But I have more worth holding tight.
I’ve lost the family member closest to me.
But my family has grown wildly.
I can’t not watch The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood.
But it feels good to cry at the end.
I am a little more worn.
But a little less weary.
A little stronger and a little less strained.
One year later, the memories are almost, just nearly enough.
Rest in peace, Mom. I love you.
Filed under: If it's not one thing, it's your mother