25.

Going through the pictures to make the video for your funeral...I could see from all of the photos just how much you loved us. I felt such a feeling of love looking through those photos. From when we were little kids to the trips we took as adults, you could see your happiness at spending time with us. Why do we forget about that as we're living our lives? Growing up, we fought, we got frustrated. Why is is harder to see the love that is so obviously there? Is that a part of life? I could say I regret the fights I had with you, but I don't think you would see it that way. A lot of those difficult times forced us to look at what was really going on. And that's because it was encouraged by you. Even as I got older and when we would get frustrated with each other, it was a moment for us to look at ourselves. I knew that you loved me so much. In the moment, those difficult times were hard. Of course we had tense moments. But even towards the end, you took the tense moments like they were mirrors, showing us what was really going on underneath it all.

I looked through your childhood pictures, too. You always used to joke how there were no baby photos of you. We were able to find a few for your video. I loved seeing pictures of you as a kid, a teenager, a young adult. Of your life before having me. I loved hearing your stories of growing up - reminding me that there was a whole life that you lived, too, before becoming a mother. You told me about your own stories of sadness and joys. I can imagine you as a kid and what you were like. I'm so grateful to you for sharing about so much of your life with me. I learned so much from you.

Sometimes all I can do is look through all of those photos. It reminds me that you were once alive, here, present in a physical form. I watch videos I have with you, and it's almost as if my brain can't compute these two parallel realities - you are alive and moving in the video, yet you are no longer here in the present moment. It feels like a paradox that has no answer. I look through the photos, watch our videos, and listen to your voicemails. I hear your voice and it's like you're right here. But then I think about how you're gone and none of it makes any sense.

These pictures, videos, voicemails, they're touchstones for me. Reminders of moments that were real, that happened, that are true. I can't believe how there won't be any more of them. It's like the archive is complete, but I still have all of these hopes and wishes about things I still want and need to do with you. How could there be no more photos? No more videos to document our memories and experiences? The collection of these things was declared finished before any of us felt done with it. My brain can't understand how there won't be anymore. It feels like I'm floating away.