You've got mail.

I had an email today.

The sender.

Debbie Perdue.

I'm not lying.

I did a double take.

I put my phone down and ran to my laptop.

Sure enough.

Debbie Perdue.

It was spam.

Because I am positive that no one has cancelled her account.

My heart ached.

I swallowed it.

I grabbed my phone.

And listened to her voice.

Because I have two voice mails that I have saved.

One is from December.

She still had strength.

The other is from February.

She was so weak.

32.

That is the number of weeks I spent at home.

With her.

In a matter of 2 years.

I hated it.

I dreaded the trips with sweetLove.

10 hours on the road by yourself, pregnant with number 2.

Then it turned into trips with both of them.

They were too little to have to do that.

Guilty.

That is how I felt for those two years.

I never felt like I was there enough.

It wasn't fair that my kids spent countless hours in the car.

I cried every time I left my home.

I cried every time I left her.

Because she was my home.

I remember when my mamaw died.

My mom was never quite the same.

She smiled.

She perfected her job as a mother.

But there was something just not right.

I love being a mom.

I wear many smiles.

I am learning to accept that it will never be quite the same.

Something will just not be right.

But in that split second.

Before common sense kicked in.
Seeing her name.
It was just right.