I will say that it has been a rough week. This year has been much more difficult and confronting than this time last year. Perhaps because last year was the year of “firsts without Mom” or perhaps because I had just moved here. Or maybe because I was distracted by Dylan being here and having first Christmas day here. Whatever the combination of distractions, it made it bearable. This year, 180 degrees the other way.

I am angry. I am angry that my mom didn’t have a 75th birthday to celebrate. I am angry that she didn’t have a first or second Christmas day to celebrate with me this year. I am angry that she wasn’t with me to go to the Christmas Eve service at the church in Marum. Instead I left flowers at her niche and went into the service by myself. I am angry that tonight is New Years Eve and that in celebrating as we used to do, at home, watching the fireworks and keeping the dogs off the ceiling, I have to do it alone.

I am angry that on her birthday on Sunday, I won’t be able to sit across the table from her and watch her get giddy off one margarita and enjoy the food from Cactus all the while she is telling me that it is not really her birthday.

But most of all I am angry because my heart is still broken and I miss her so much.