More Time

I hate how it’s real, all over again.

How it comes in a wave of realization

Realization that you really are gone

Oh how I wish pictures didn’t mean so much and that photos were not precious things to be cherished.

And how I wish wearing your t-shirts wasn’t the way I keep you close to me now.

When I close my eyes and see you smiling, it takes everything in me not to cry.

I don’t want memorials — This speaking in past tense.

The distance between when we were together and when we will meet again.

No, I want futures! Futures with you still in them.

I don’t want memorials. I want more memory making days.

Days full of life and joy,

Moments of togetherness.

“God, I want more time!”

To just sit beside you

Waiting and watching for little hummingbirds at the feeder on the back porch.

I want to hear the excitement in your voice when you talk about a great blue heron or a glorious sunset ; To see the joy in your eyes when you laugh with your grandchildren.

I want you here to tell silly stories that only you could make up.

I want to hear your laugh one more time.

To see you cuddled up next to Momma, the love of your life, while you watch a cheesy Hallmark movie together.

Just to hear you sigh and doze off in your recliner.

It’s unbelievable how so much emptiness can accompany such fullness of joy for the life we shared with you.