how do you?
I had the urge earlier today to write something in tribute to my Mama. To tell you about her. But haven’t I been doing that every single day since she left me?
I had the urge to write a letter to her. But what more can I say–what can I say that I haven’t said already?
And how, exactly, do you convey how important someone’s existence was to you?
I don’t know. For me, there is not intentional anything here. Every moment of my life, I simply live it: a humble–yet healthy–dose of gratitude for that woman who fought for me every single day of my life–even before she knew I could exist.
I could tell you all these stories about her–stories that would make you love her in some weaker way than I do. Because who could love her more than me?
I could describe all the million things I loved about her. But, some ways, that would diminish her.
My life, truth be told, is just one big conversation with–about–for–her.
I guess that’s all I really need to say.