Six years since I first woke up in a world without my Mama. I think all of the people who said all of the things were mostly right. It does take a long long time, and you have to be patient, and eventually thinking about her makes you sad and happy and not just sad, and through some mystery, the missing increases but hurts less.
And I still think I see her, across the park or the church, but it makes me smile now, and reminds me that I'm always looking for her, still. It takes some of the pressure off of being a Mom, I think. Because I know she wasn't perfect, and I know nothing could matter less. She's everything because she's my Mom. So I just have to do my best, and I really can't screw it up. I'm everything anyway.
And someday I'll look across the clouds and there she'll be. For real.