A year ago today, I held her hand as she took her last breath. Her arm was feverish. Shocking bc she was always cold. I’m the same. Touching my arm today, if it’s warm, I’m whiplashed straight to that moment. How has it been 365 days since the woman who mothered me breathed at the same time as me?
Ashlee 🤟🏻She is my first and last thoughts every single day. Every single day, such heavy thoughts. I love to picture her smile and laugh, even though those images quickly remind me of the cold permanence of her absence.