I hate January

I miss you terribly. January was horrible. Horrible. Horrible. I realised now that it's February. I hate the fact that 2013 is a year you never lived in. I wish for 2012. A year you were alive. I want to relive the past Summer, your last summer. Even if it was the saddest summer ever, to learn about the metastasis in your spine, your surgery, the metastasis in your brain. To know you will die. However bad – you were with me.

I miss you. I am so lonely. So very, very lonely. I don't know who to talk to. I don't know how to talk about you. And I want to, because I think about you all the time. It feels like you are in my thoughts every single minute. To forget about you is scary and bliss at once. It only happens short amounts of time in which I feel normal. Normal. Poor Tonie. Yesterday she started crying because I was. She is very loving, caresses my cheeks, hugs me, tries to comfort me. She is 16 mths! I designed a little photo card for your thank-you letters (for all the flowers and help we got). We have it all around the house and I try to explain to Tonie why I am sad by showing her your picture and giving you little kisses and hugs – imagehugging you. She hugs you, too. And her little hand touches your face tenderly.

Blerch. This is a soppy smusch. I can't help it. I miss you, I miss you, I miss everything. I miss my life with you and the life I imagined for us. The grandmother you were supposed to be. The vacations we were supposed to take. Tonie taking naps with you. Telling me she wants to go to your place. I miss the way you listened to me. Nobody will ever see me the way you did. Flawless even though you know all my weaknesses, only a mom... Whom to tell all those little stories? Even if I have very close friends it is simply different. And because I can't tell you I somehow don't want to tell a thing. Funny enough many people think it helps if they tell me about you or what a loss was like for their grandmother or how they cope. If they get near the topic of you. Which most people don't. I am unfair.

It is Valentines. I don't think you ever gave a sh. But another chance for me to let you know: I miss you and I love you. By now I sometimes feel it: you won't come back.