I keep saying things like “I wish she could see this.” And people respond with things like “she does, in her own way” or “she’s watching from above.”
But that’s not what I mean.
I don’t picture her somewhere looking down at us or keeping up with everything we’re doing. She was tired. She fought hard and she was ready. I think she stayed just long enough to know we’d be okay, and then she finally went to rest.
And I’m glad for that. She deserves to rest and renew.
When I say “she should be here,” it’s not about her. It’s about me.
It’s about the fact that I still need her here. Not in some spiritual way. Not in a “she’s still with you” way. I mean here. Physically. In the room. In the moment. And these big moments make that really obvious. They’re the kind of moments you’re supposed to have your mom for. The kind where you look over without thinking and expect her to be there.
So when I say “I wish she could see this,” what I really mean is…
I wish you were here with me. Because I still need you.
