Just another December 15 without you. Another year of wondering, wishing, aching, and longing.
Another year of wondering what you would be like,
who you would be.
This year is different though.
No longer a child, but not yet a teen. On the cusp of everything.
I can’t even imagine you at this age. Those days have long passed.
Instead, I live through those whose babies lived.
I see their young women and my heart and mind can’t grasp what I am seeing.
They are so big, so lovely. They have lives and wishes. They plan for the future and think about the past. They have experiences, laughter, joy, and pain. All things you don’t know anymore.
So I watch from afar and cry.
Just another December 15 without you. Another year of no celebration, no one to blow out the candles, no one to laugh with, worry about, and watch grow up.
December 15 and I miss you.