Hysterical Plane Passenger Needs Extra Napkins to Blow Nose

Dear Mommom,

Today, I left Jersey to return to Vegas. Before leaving, Paul, Brian and I visited Poppop. He was washing the windows, going about his routine. But he seems so lost, like a piece is missing. Like he lost his other half of 59 years. He asked me to look through your things and see if there was anything I wanted to take. I didn't leave with anything. (Although I desire your silver and made that known for many, many years. And I did ask to have my dad send me your Buddha, which I have also been trying to get for years.) Mostly, I looked around the house and I touched your clothes and I missed you so deeply.

I didn't get an opportunity to reflect on that grief because a certain airline decided to test my patience and I spent the next 45 minutes dealing with their inability to run said airline. Finally, on the flight from Atlanta to Vegas, I finished a chick lit book called Remember Me by Sophie Kinsella. It's about amnesia, finding who you are and finding someone to love you regardless of the twists and turns.

When I finished the book, I clung to Brian and openly cried on the plane. As I am not one for grand public displays of emotion, I was not thrilled about my surroundings. But I couldn't help myself. I was overwhelmed. I couldn't stop thinking about you. What if my memories of you were suddenly erased? (Because that's a likely plot twist for the average person, right?)

I thought a lot about your fifty-nine year marriage. Brian and I are going to have to be pretty damn old in order to pull that off, but I hope that we can stay as dedicated and caring as you and Poppop were. If I were without him, I know I would wander aimlessly and look like I'd lost my other half, just like Poppop looks now.

I got a copy of your wedding portrait from Santa/Dad. I'm going to display it prominently on our mantle. Not only to remind me of you, but also to remind me of the strength of marriage and commitment.

How I miss you,
Danielle