It's been more than three months since she passed. But this morning, I got up and the only thing on my mind was her. Happens most mornings that anything I'm on deadline for, or even just problems in general, are wafting about in my brain as I untangle those cobwebs.

It was her this time. I couldn't stop it. Within a few seconds I got that same feeling, as I did back in August, that I got when I got the phone call about her and what happened in the hospital. Finality.

Sort of. That same feeling got me. Trampled me. I found myself crying and talking to myself in that weird high voice again. Can't stop it. Maybe the tears store up and need to explode. It's probably the same for most folks. I'm not most folks, though. I don't know how to deal with her absence. So I cried for awhile, not long like I used to. Then I was done, took a deep breath and I felt better.

What it is about holidays and family and losing the ones we love? It's unstoppable, inevitable. I know it. But when it hits, it's sort of like starting all over again, just not quite as piercing, not quite as shocking. It gets littler each time, I guess. Maybe one day I won't even cry about losing her anymore. Would I really want that?

I hope to God, no.

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