January 7th,
Jema was meant to be acting in the pantomime for Christmas. You were going to sit and watch, and clap whenever her speaking part approached. It was supposed to be the best Christmas we've ever celebrated together.
But you're gone.
If you were here mamma, you would laugh at what I'm writing. Knowing how pompous you are...I used to hate that I admired that about you.
Maybe I don't any more. Maybe I appreciate you more, now that you're dead.
I suppose I still do admire you...or maybe I just hate you for dying.
It makes me wonder now if we were ever as close as you let on...as I'd thought.
If we were ever close at all.
You probably began to drift away as soon as I found Little Birdy!
Did you fake it mamma? Or had you began to change after the cancer. Did you have it when I was seven? When I was ten? fifteen?
Mamma I'll never know!
How had I never noticed?
-Lucy
