Lynn Griffiths
It has been a year without her.
Life feels empty without her; she was such a huge part of who I am.
At this point, a year later, I don't want to use "years" anymore.
I don't want to think this is the 4th Christmas without her.
Because honestly, the holidays aren't the things you miss the most.
The things you miss the most are the little smiles, the towel left in the bathroom, I miss getting mad at her because she always stuck her hair to the shower wall because she wanted it to be full of her hair, her sitting in the chair when I walk in the house, smiling at me while watching Rubble and Crew. I miss watching her work on her diamond dots, asking me to pick up something she dropped. I miss her, I just miss her. I miss getting new craft kits in the mail. I miss getting anything in the mail. I want to yell, " What did you order now. I want to sit down for an hour after I get off work and change out her diamond dots or just add a new set. I want to hear her say Mommy one more time. I want to be frustrated because she was taking so much of my time, even as an adult.
If I could beg to have her back.
I would spend my life on my knees.