2,365 Days

Dear Mom, 

2,365 days. 
2,365 days. 
Six years, five months, 21 days. 
Nope, still doesn't settle well. 
337 weeks
56,760 hours
3,405,600 minutes
204,336,000 seconds. 

2,359 days since your funeral, 
and I still cry on cue to "You Raise Me Up."
2 seconds into the violin intro,
tears surface, my heart falls.

2,365 days since you left me,
I watch a sad movie,
and for the first time in weeks I cry over you.

2,365 days
and I lose it
because I don't remember you the way I used to.
You're merely a memory
I am ashamed.

2,365 days,
and I still hate cancer for taking you.

2,365 days,
and even though I am proud of the woman I have become,
it kills me to know I am doing this without you.

8,158 days later,
and I am still your little girl
your "babydoll."