It's that worst day again, Ingrid. Three years since you died. I've been avoiding writing this all day.
Even this long out, it's hard to accept that you're gone. I still think, "Oh, I'll just ask Ingrid." And then snap back to reality and remember that I can't do that.
I think acceptance is a very slow process, Ingrid, that happens to a lot of small corners and nooks in the mind. And since you occupy a lot of those spaces I'm not exactly aching for acceptance, I guess.
I still just miss you.
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2 comments:
One sad day, three sad years. I still think about and miss her all the time.
She is my favorite Aunt there is not a day that goes by that I don't miss her and wonder what she would have to say. I miss her laugh and her smile. At least shes in heaven dancing a polka with her Dad.
michelle
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