One year ago today Mama, you and I were racing down 85 on our way to the hospital in anticipation of your second grand daughter’s birth. Today, she turns one and you’re not here and it’s so odd Mama that you’re not here.

Taylor’s one and you’d be so proud of her and Brenda. She’s a beautiful little girl.

But today I also got a phone call from Sister and she said Grandpa’s in the hospital. They don’t know what’s wrong and they don’t know if he’s going to be okay. I’m worried about Daddy. He’s lost you and now he might be losing his dad. I wonder if he can handle it. I worry about him on the road. Is he doing something crazy or is he getting enough to eat? Is he okay? Is he just living to living? I want to go see Grandpa but he’s in the same hospital you passed away in and I can’t step into that hospital. If I never see the inside of it again, I’d be okay with it. I can’t go back there because you never left there. You never came back from there. I had to say goodbye to you there. I can’t say goodbye to anyone else there. I don’t think I can survive it if I had to.

Today wasn’t a good day Mama.

Yes, Taylor’s a year older but you should be here to celebrate with her.

Saturday, your oldest granddaughter turns eleven and it’s her first birthday without you.

And then on Sunday, it’s Mother’s Day, and it’s my first Mother’s Day without you.