I dread this day every year. I can walk around the rest of the year and pretend that you are still here, just away...somewhere on vacation with no phone...poor reception up there in the mountains. But then January 3 comes along, and it all comes flooding back. The phone call, the mad rush to the airport across the state, the frantic cab ride to the hospital, the shock of seeing you lying in ICU...I'll never forget it. I am so grateful for the few days with you in the hospital. But what I would give to hear you speak to me again, to tell me you love me, that it's going to be okay. I miss you, mom...more than you will ever know. I hope we get to see each other again in heaven. Love always.