Lola: I Miss You

I don't know why your memory comes to me when it does. You are mentioned daily in our home, and usually in a casual manner, counting you as one of us. Why then, when I am lying in bed at night trying to fall asleep does it come to me? The memories, the ferocity of grief I felt just following your death? I remember after you died I begged someone to make sure the bishopric announced your death before I came back to church. I didn't want anyone asking, and I didn't want to be present to hear that pronounced. They didn't. Somehow it seemed that most people knew, but not all. I remember at least one occasion someone innocently exclaiming "Oh! You had your baby!" What could I say? I think I mumbled "...she died..."
You died.
Sometimes those words are benign, part of the landscape of my life scarcely to be commented on anymore. Other times like tonight I wonder how it got to be nearly 7 years and how I can explain to anyone why I am still crying. I even feel embarrassed, silly, or apologetic at times. All I can think to explain it is I miss you. What else can be said of the enduring grief? The longing? The guilt I feel in my inadequacies as a mother and my fear that I didn't deserve you...Time has helped to ease the pain, but mostly in the frequency of it. When it is felt, it is still raw and real as ever before. It's just not every day. Sometimes it is weeks or even months between, other times it'll hit me several times a week.
I don't know what else to say.
I miss you.

xoxo