I Miss You

It's the eve of your birthday. 

You would've been 63 years old. 

I'm sitting here at what should be your headstone wishing you had an actual headstone. 

But it's so hard. 

Finding the perfect one for you. 

Because that's what you were. 

So you only deserve the best. 

I often look at them thinking I'm ready. 

But the anxiety kicks in. 

Am I making the right decision. 

Why aren't you here to guide me on this?

And then I start miss you all over again. 

Your voice. 

Your laugh. 

Your smile. 

Your curly hair. 

The comfort of your shoulder. 

Your wisdom. 

But most of all I just miss you. 

Three years and it still feels like yesterday. 

Sitting in the hospital. 

Hearing you tell us goodbye. 

Watching you dance as you told us you loved us. 

Listening to you tell us you were ready to go. 

That you wanted to see your mom and dad again.  

But most of all I just miss having my mom. 

I miss spending lazy days with you. 

I miss calling you and arguing with you that you were right. 

I miss when I couldn't sleep I could call you and you were always up playing candy crush. 

There's just so many things I miss. 

I hope to see you again one day momma. 

But for now, continue to be the best guardian angel. 

Until next time.