Day 51.

Listening to Ludwig van Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata".

I'm afraid to close my eyes. All I see is an open casket. Mom lying inside, her face cold like cement, soul evacuated from body. No more sunshine in your chocolate brown eyes. No more perfectly straight smile that calm even the most deadly natural disasters within me. No more warmth. Only death. No more soothing voice to call my name when I need to hear it in that tone of voice that quiets my tears. No more laughter when I tell a joke that isn't even funny. No more French whispered in my ears as I sleep while you rock me back and forth, back and forth "I love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as you are living, my baby you'll be." No life. Only death.

I can't breathe anymore.

I've lost faith. I've lost Jesus. I've lost hope. The Great Sadness has won today's battle. I hate this. I hate everything about this.

You told Caroline to put away the candy that was being used next week. There was no candy. There was nothing.

You keep saying you're feeling fine, but you hallucinate and mumble and forget things. Simple things. Things that were said not five minutes ago.

I'm not sure if I am strong enough for this. Breathing is a chore. Living life like a normal human being is a chore.

I wanted you to walk me down the aisle. So did Caroline. We picked you, not Ray, not our real dad...YOU, mom.

What happens when I need you and you are no longer here to help? What then? Who am I supposed to go to?

Jesus, please take me home. In Jesus, I'm ready to come home. Take me home!

I love you Mommy, forever. I will always like you. As long as I am living, my mother you will be.

Broken and Teary-eyed,
Niki FM.