Nineteen Weeks

Hi Pal,

This morning I sat down, looked at my calendar, and

realized that it's Wednesday.

Nineteen weeks ago, I held you for the last time.

I talked to you for the last time.

I kissed you good-bye for the last time.

It seems like nineteen million years ago.

As much as we talked about you dying, as much as I knew

I would miss you, I wasn't prepared for this.

This ache of not having you.

Missing your laugh, your smile. Missing going to movies,

dinner, and shopping together.

My Pal, I miss you.

Dad brought me your Mickey Mouse light. It had been over in

your office at the church. I remember when we bought if

for you.

Sometimes, when I turn it off, Mickey says, "See you later

Pal." I miss you. I miss my Pal.

In nineteen weeks, life has changed.

I'm not the same person I was when I talked with you last.

I've lost someone that I love very much.

The kids are growing up every day, and we talk about you all the time.

Today, at lunch, we were eating celery. Big K. was

remembering how much you liked celery.

Easter will be here soon. It's hard for me to think about, because it

was always your favorite holiday. Last year, you were here. We cooked together.

I took a lot of pictures. We planned on you feeling so much better this

Easter. I can't believe you won't be with us on Easter Sunday.

Mom, I miss you. I love you. I miss you every hour of every day.

Sometimes I get busy, and then life slows down, and I remember you're gone.

I wish that you weren't. I can't wait to see you again. I can't wait to

hold you again. I can't wait to talk with you again.

I can't wait to see you at Heaven's gates and

know that we will never have to say good-bye again.

Mom I love you.

Your Little Pal