Any night I can quote Shakespeare is a good night...

Hey, did you happen to see the most beautiful girl in the world?
And if you did, was she crying, crying?
Hey, if you happen to see the most beautiful girl that walked out on me
Tell her, "I'm sorry."
Tell her, "I need my baby."
Oh.... Won't you tell her that I love her?

I woke up this morning and realized what I had done
I stood alone in the cold gray dawn
I knew I'd lost my morning sun
I lost my head and I said some things
Now come the heartaches that morning brings
I know I'm wrong and I couldn't see
I let my world slip away from me

"The Most Beautiful Girl in the World" - Charlie Rich



Oh, Chynna... How do I miss thee? I cannot even count the ways. Have you ever wondered what it would feel like to storm the beach at Normandy, only to be riveted by bullets, with limbs and entrails flying every-which-a-away? Maybe you've wondered how a body responds to a plane crash: oxygen masks dangling from the suddenly irrelevant reading light thingy, stomach up in your nostrils, plummeting into a sub-stratosphere....yeah,I think it's a little like that, this losing a child deal. Humans are mysterious,intense, complicated & yet single-celled-simple all at the same time beings, aren't we? We don't know. We just don't know. Until we know.


How do I miss you, Chinks? Well, for starters....wait. Disclaimer time! For all you Moms out there. You know who you are. I was you. Pretty girl. Handsome boy. Elizabethan tragedy encroaching. Mustn't let them too close to each other. Mustn't allow them any unsupervised courtin' time. Well, get this. Turns out, that's something I miss. I miss my daughter and her first love. I miss her talking about him incessantly. I miss her wishing she could spend every waking moment with him. I miss her begging for that extra 15 minutes on Sunday night at his parent's house so she could talk more with his uber-awesome mom. Yes, I miss taking a back seat to someone else in my daughter's life. I see so clearly now. It's crystal clear, baby girl. All those times you told me that he was the one? I believe you now. I'm so sorry I doubted you. He's off at college now. He has a life to carve. He has obligations. He has intentions. He has horrible-sweet memories of you. I am so glad that I'm not where he is, baby. Please, please watch over him. I don't know how he stands it, this aftermath of ours.

So, back to the ways that I miss you....I digress, as I always do. But, here it is. I miss you these ways: I miss your dimple (it was an AWESOME dimple). I miss your mole - right above your lip. I miss your smell - it was like cotton candy and wilted roses. I miss your chubby toes that looked like tiny little sausages. I miss your gorgeous eyes that started out looking just like your father's and winded up looking just like mine. I miss your fiery temper. I miss your strong will. I miss your faith. I miss your convictions, so much stronger than mine. I miss the fact that you never once in your entire life admitted that you were wrong. I miss shopping with you on Saturday afternoons. I miss you wearing all my clothes to church on Sunday morning. I miss your messy room. I miss your super-clean car (at least you FINALLY kept something organized!). I miss your good grades. I miss your brilliant mind. I miss the things you did. I miss the things you didn't quite get to do. I miss your arguments with your father, the ones that always sent you running to me. I miss your arguments with me, the ones that always sent you running into my arms exactly three hours later. I miss our laughs. I miss our cries. I miss us. I miss you. I miss the me that I used to be...when I had you.

I spend all of my time telling people that I'm OK. I can do this. I can sleep. I can eat. I can go back to work. I can do the things that I need to do to appear normal. I can hold it together. I can, too. But, then, some days you walk through life and you see people going through the motions and you realize...hey! My daughter did this one day, and then the next day she disappeared. She never went back to Wal-Mart. She never went back to church. Or to school. Or home. Or anywhere. It just makes you think, doesn't it? She was here! She was right here. And, now she's nowhere...but she's still my daughter. And, isn't a rose by any other name just as sweet? I think so, especially the wilted ones.