I miss my child.
I miss her voice. I miss her smell. I miss her laugh. I miss her tears. I miss her face, and her smile, and the way she used to wrinkle her nose. I miss the look in her eye, and her long eyelashes. I miss her friendship and her admiration. I miss our talks, and laughing together. I miss her presence at every get together, Sunday dinners, and holidays. I miss her stubbornness, and her determination. I miss her inspiration, and encouragement to be a better person. I miss her example to her sister and brother. I miss her relationship with them. I miss her doing anything necessary to put the star on top of the Christmas tree. I miss the career she will never have, the husband she will never marry, and the children she will never bear. I miss watching her grow, as an adult, into her faith and values. I miss growing old with her in my life. I miss watching her and London become best friends. I miss watching her take care of T.J. like he was her child. I miss the sound of her truck pulling up in the driveway with the music playing too loud. I miss the feeling of security I had knowing all my children were safely tucked in their beds. I miss the innocent happiness we used to have. I miss cooking her favorite foods, and serving her plate. I miss taking care of her when she was sick. I miss worrying about her well-being. I miss calling her and texting her on the phone. I miss her telling me that everything was going to be okay when I was upset. I miss wiping her tears when she cried from a broken heart. I miss chasing her with band aids or medicine when she was sick or hurt. I miss her face in every family photo from now on. I miss holding her hand in church. I miss our talks in the bathroom. I miss encouraging her to follow her heart. I miss the sense of pride I felt watching her do the right thing for the right reason, without being told to. I miss her compassion, empathy, and her love of babies. I miss the way that she hated the smell of mayonnaise, and that she would die of starvation before eating a sandwich. I miss her little white socks. I miss the time that I wasted. I miss the time that I could have spent with her…. Where does a parent end a list like this? It could certainly go on forever, and for me, it will. For as long as I live, I will miss these things, and more about Lauren. I wish that I could have some time back, to relive it in a way that would bring me comfort now, but it doesn’t work that way. The best that I can do for myself, my family, and Lauren, is to learn from her legacy, to not waste time, to say what’s in my heart, and let people know how I feel about them while I still can. I would want her to do the same if she was here, and I was there. So I will do my best, in Lauren’s memory, to learn from my regrets, and do better. And maybe I can cross one thing off the above list, her inspiration. I can still feel that from heaven. She still inspires me to do better, and I will still try.
Tara Rodney
10/27/10