Counting the Days

I find myself counting the days since my mother's death. Tomorrow it will be 2 weeks and I find that hard to believe. I keep reliving the whole 58 days that she was sick and of course, as we humans often do, I question every decision I made. These are the thoughts that keep me awake at night. These are the questions I wake up at 2:00 a.m. and start asking. My brain is rational but my heart hasn't gotten the message yet. When I find myself doubting things I have to stop and be still for a moment. All I have to do is remember all the gifts I was given and the time we had to say good-bye. That gift is not to be taken for granted or ignored. I know without a doubt that my mother was at peace and so I must also find that peace as well. I know it will come in time. Of this I am certain. When I'm feeling sad I like to remember the day that we were teasing mother by telling her it was OK now to tell which of us was her favorite. In the past she would just shush us or refuse to answer but this time she responded. She thoughtfully replied, "The one who needed me most at the time." Now when I'm sad and awake in the middle of the night that memory comforts me. I feel her around me because she knows I need her.