Another year, Mom, and losing you still feels raw. My little dog has grown quite old now, too; you always used to ask about her and we talked about her quite a bit. She is struggling to do her long walks but we still go every day, though the long walks are getting shorter and shorter we still take our time. You have to measure the cloth carefully when you get near the end of the roll.
I am surrounded by memories of you and I think of you all the time, almost every day at least once or twice. I so wish I could expect to hear your voice when I pick up the phone sometimes these days, even though your presence abides in me now in unexpected ways.
God bless you. I miss you a lot, Mom. Your love rests in my heart, as always.