Thinking about my Mom who passed away last month. It's weird to think of my Mom being dead. (I believe she's alive with Jesus, and only dead in my world.)
I visited my Dad last week at the retirement home. Mom, of course, wasn't there. He must be so lonely, seeing all the photos and nicknacks that remind him of her.
(I know this isn't the most flattering photo of my Mom, but it the one that reminds me of her most recent days.)
In the retirement home I swear I could hear Mom's voice say "Scott do you want a Coke?" She always had a cold coke ready for me. Imagining her voice I froze in my footsteps. I couldn't move. I started to cry. I looked over at the couch where she always sits - and she wasn't there. Just the space where she used to sit.
Mom always gave me a dog cookie to take home to Callie. No cookies today.
Dad and I went to play pool. Mom always watched the game from the side. The chair was empty.
No asking, "So how are Brett and Crystal doing?"
And while her passing was not a surprise, what is surprising me is the overwhelming feeling that .... she's gone ... and she's not coming back. Not even to say "good-bye".
I can't imagine how my Dad must feel.
I don't think I can write anymore right now.