I Still Miss Her You Know

It never seems to end, by the time Cecilia turns 2 she will have been gone for 5 months. That's long enough to learn new habits, but not long enough to create new traditions. I'm angry that she's dead. I'm mournful that she's gone. I regret not having spent more time with her. I'm sad that I never get to check-in with her again. I miss her soft tiny hands, holding little bits of things. I miss her launching hugs around my neck, and I long her little drunken giggle. What I would do for one of her silly little packages! What I would do to have her tease me once more! What I would give to cook vasilopita, spanikopita, apple pie, kourumbeides, koulourakia, potatoes, that celariac dish with her, or to dye eggs red for Easter together. To stand on the beach with her, to walk to Race Point, to hug The Old Elm together. I'd love to eat some ginger ice cream with my mumma.

I long to do things together that hadn't happened yet. To have her play with Cecilia. To talk with her, to hold her hand as she learned. To watch them draw together. To watch them build fairy houses. I know she had so many plans for Cecilia. I long to watch her grow old, to help her walk as she begins to stoop over. To help her into bed and brush her teeth. To keep her company while she's dying. To hold her hand again. To feed her broth. To have final words with one another, to tell one another we love one another, and know it to be true because of the sparkles in our eyes.