Subject line: Fourteen years.


denver, colorado.

Today marks fourteen years and a day since I saw you last. Since I heard your voice and laugh. Since that last hug in your bed. The one after the last fight we ever had. The one one that made you cry.

Fourteen years since being pulled out of class. Since finding out you had passed.

Since my world shifted and I didn’t know which way was up or down.

And even after all these years, I’m somehow still angry. At you. At God. At myself.

I’m angry when I look at my children and you aren’t here to love them the way you loved me. When you aren’t here to guide me through this crazy, unknown path of parenthood. Adulthood. Im angry you couldn’t be there on my wedding day. The day I gave birth. The day my son was diagnosed with autism. And just for those everyday things. What I wouldn’t give to be able to argue with you again!

I miss you, mom, and I can’t believe I’ve lived almost half my life without you. I needed you.

I need you.