I've been missing my momma a lot lately.
Thinking about her and the things we used to talk about and do together. I even drove by the house on my way home tonight. I don't know why. I just felt like I needed to. It looks the same as it did when we sold it.
This morning I even reached for my phone to call her like I always did in the morning.
In a few months, it will be two years since she left.
Maybe it's the timing. Maybe it's just wishing I could talk to her about all of the stuff going on around here. A lot of it is, I think, the fact that the book signing I do every February is coming up, and she always went along with me and hung out with me throughout the whole day - sitting with me and talking up my books to passerby's. It makes me miss her even more.
This time last year, we were waist deep in getting the house ready to sell. We were tired - physically, emotionally, and ready to get back to our own homes and lives, but we still had each other every weekend to talk to and cry with. It sounds weird because while I am happy to not have that constant commitment, I miss it in a lot of ways.
I don't know. I guess it is what it is and that's okay.