It's been one year since Mom died, one year without her.
There were still many things that I had to do for her this past year, even though she wasn't here. I still have to do her taxes.
She never got to cuddle her great-granddaughter.
She never knew about our farm or chased our chickens.
She never knew that I became a quilter or saw any of my quilts.
She doesn't get to watch her granddaughter play collegiate softball.
She never saw a smartphone or a tablet.
She doesn't know I drive a truck.
She never got to know the amazing men who are her grandsons.
She didn't get to bake the traditional Christmas cookies this year, but I did, and wept.
Our lives goes on.
We live without her.