The word looks like it feels.
It’s 3:08 in the am. Hours after she left this place.
She spent roughly 46 years showing us how to do love. To eat cookies with abandon.
There are people I want to smack who say things like she’s in a better place. Yeah, I know that. Duh. But I’m not.
I’m still here. Feeling the hole she’s left.
Just let me feel it.
I believe in a higher place. I do. I’ve had a hint, a minuscule, so-slight-it-can’t-even-be-categorized-taste of the chocolate chip in that big cookie. I know she’s munching right now on the best, tasty treat. And that fact makes me okay. Sort of. Makes this part semi-sweet do-able for me.
My eyes are swollen, my heart is broken, but I do know you’re good. You were. You are now, more than my taste-bud-heart can imagine.
Mack down, Stace.