Grief, you sneaky booger or more appropriately titled, I miss my friend

I sat in my car this afternoon, driving to pick the boys up from school and willing myself to get it together before pulling into the parking lot, tears streaming down my face.

It's been 17 years today since my friend left this earth. Today marks half my life without her. I don't know why exactly, but it's made me feel like it's happening all over again.

I started counting down the days late last week. I've known this day was coming, but still I wasn't prepared for how sad I'd feel. I'm always sad on the anniversary of her death, but 17's been the hardest since year two or three. I've been grumpy. I've been short with people. I've said and done some things that I wouldn't usually do.

Grief. It's sneaky.

I've been playing the last time I saw her over and over in my head. We fought. I was late bringing the mail to her while she was in the hospital (and it wasn't even my fault) and we fought. The last time I saw her we were angry.

I've been playing the moment my mama told me she'd died over and over in my head. She came into my room in the middle of the night and said "Honey, Lora went home." My half-asleep 17-year-old self didn't understand what she meant.

I've been playing the days that followed over and over in my head. For some reason, all of my memories are dark. It feels like it was constant night for weeks on end.

I've felt like every cliche broken-hearted woman in a movie ever. Wearing my pajamas in the middle of the day, tear-stained cheeks, Lora's favorite Anne Murray songs on repeat.

Grief. It sucks.

One of Lora's favorites, that's been on my mind a lot the past few days. I think it's terrible, but makes me think of her.