A Daughter's Memory

Today, I will post on Facebook and Instagram a reminder of a day that is always a dark day for me. I do it for me, and not for anyone else. Because as much as I despise empathy, I don't want this day to go by with out some sort of electronic remembrance of how I am feeling today.

Will this year be different, will I spend my day in happiness of memories? Will I revel in all the goodness that late has bring? Will I ever get my count right? Is it 17 years? 18 years? Why am I so bad in math? He was always so good at it.

This year on January 11th, I am met with a little more dread and questions. I am met with an earnest yearn for wanting to speak to him more than ever before, to ask him how he is, how he thinks I am doing? Does he support the decisions I make? Why didn't he tell me what was ahead for me? Can he see his granddaughter? Is he really looking down and seeing it all and do I have his approval?

There is a reason January is always cloudy. Allrighty, rainbows and butterflies tomorrow I promise.

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