6 months. 6 months since I’ve seen her smile, heard her laugh, felt the softness of her skin. 6 months since I’ve spoken to her, received advice from her, shared my day with her. 6 months since she’s said something that only a mother can say and I’ve gotten annoyed at in only the way a daughter can. 6 months of grief and silent tears and loneliness and heartbreak. 6 months of barely functioning, much less living and thriving. 6 months of being angry at the world. 6 months of feeling like I lost my best friend. 6 months of feeling everything. And nothing.
Today is the first day of the Jewish new year. Today I will try to make a first step toward honoring her in the way she would want to be honored. With celebration and joy. And mint chocolate chip ice cream. Dripping down the cone. While blasting ‘I Am Woman’. And singing my bruised and broken heart out. And then more mint chocolate chip ice cream.
Love you Momma, I know you’re up there kicking some serious ass. Hollering into your megaphone and looking as gorgeous and elegant and trendy and spunky and graceful and fierce as ever. Showing them how it’s done. Because we Gimpel/Strongwater women are fucking warriors.