Through My Eyes

It's not that I don't think of my mom anymore.  I do.  I think of her daily, as I always have.

And it's not that I don't feel the need to speak with her anymore, or write down the stories that I want her to know.

It's that I choose to feel that she's with me.  Not staring at me or watching me from above, just a part of me.  She's gone; she's not coming back; and I've known all along that "talking" to her through this blog was just a gimmick.  I just pretend that she's part of me and sees things the way I do.  Through my eyes.

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