Do you really want to read my blog?

My mom asked me today where she can read this blog. I told her that to would be glad to let her read this, but she had to know that it is raw. It's grief. Naked grief. 

I haven't invited her to read because I don't think she can manage it. I think knowing the pain inside me would make her pain overwhelming. She cried when I told her that is a grief blog. 

Joslyn said that it's beautiful and terrible. 

Many people say that they sob while reading it. 

It's the pain inside me leaking out, one small tear at a time. I can't let it all out at once; I would drown. I can't keep it inside; I would explode. It's raw. 

Today Libby had my phone, and she was looking at the pictures.  November pictures. October pictures. No late September pictures. Back to school pictures. August beach pictures with Katie. July cabin pictures with Katie. June graduation pictures with Katie. May camping pictures with Katie. Katie pictures. Everywhere. 

She flipped through the pictures going backwards. Quickly at first. Then slower. Gradually stopping at a photo of Katie and one of her friends. Enlarging it. Looking at Katie's smile. And she teared up. And I wept. 

Taking a break from moving some furniture, there we were, lying on a mattress on the floor. Missing Katie.