Thinking of my momma

It's still so hard for me. I remember a time, not too long ago, where I had convinced myself that because of my mom's drinking I wouldn't feel bad or miss her when she died. I convinced myself to believe that drinking was the reason why her bones were so brittle and she knew this going in and she was doing this to herself. This meant, her having some control over, her death would be partly her fault so I wouldn't miss her. Well, I was wrong. Big time wrong. Not a day goes by where I wish I could call her; just to chat...talk about nothing. We did that so well together. This sucks.