A little boy grows a lot in two years. So much she didn't get to see, it breaks my heart over and over again.
Sometimes when I hug Alex, I close my eyes and remember my mother hugging me and talk about how much his Mimi loved him, hoping that he'll feel just a little bit of her love through me and that will leave some sort of imprint on him. We look at her picture often and talk about how much we miss her, and I wonder if he'll grow up feeling like he somehow knew her. The way I feel sometimes like I knew Kaleel.
When I think about my mother -- the kind of mother she was, the relationship we had -- I don't have a single negative thought about her. When I think of her, I can only think of warmth and love and affection, because those are the things she surrounded me with. She wasn't perfect, but who needs perfect? She was always just what I needed, even when I didn't like it. She was such a good person. I should try to be more like her.
I haven't been to her grave since the day we buried her. How many flights north to New York have I stared out the plane window and told myself, "Next time I visit, I think I can do it"? Will I ever be able to? She was so strong -- through everything she only talked about living. If she was afraid to die, she never said so. I feel so ashamed that I can't even be strong enough to go visit her grave.