Dang.

It's been less than two months since my Mom died and so far, we've had Easter, Mother's Day, a graduation, a baptism, Memorial Day picnic and now a birthday party, not to mention that three of our daughters have gone on trips and have had adventures and I've missed her terribly because all of them. I keep thinking how far short of her that I am falling. I am not nearly as sweet or kind or good as she was. I just wish that I could be half the woman that my Mom thought I was. In her eyes, I was some sort of saintly person. In reality, I'm just a fumbling woman, stumbling through life trying to get through without killing someone in the attempt. And I wish I had my Mom to talk to. I know she'd understand. And she'd make me feel better, 'cause that's what Moms do.