Margaret.

A name I used to wear loosely and used to be too shy to share when people asked because it did not feel like I fit into it. A name that when said, feels like gold dripping off of my tongue. I had never quite felt worthy of a name that made me feel that way. The richness of it, the maturity in it, the way others reacted when I said it, all made it feel like it did not belong to me.

Reflecting on that now, I realize that the value I assigned to the name all came from her. That value came from the way I viewed her throughout my whole life. The way she spoke with such eloquence and thoughtfulness and always left my mind thirsty for more. How could I ever fill such a name the way that she did?

To think that I ever felt nervous to share that part of my name with people seems so trivial. Now that she is not in this existence with us anymore, I want to scream my name from the highest peaks I can find. How could I ever feel ashamed of something that connected me to one of the most indescribable souls this world has ever known? A woman who simply did not use the word "angry" because it never sat right with her. The feeling of anger was not one that she would be willing to accept. Her love was something so rare and deep and honest; knowing that she loved me makes me feel famous. Why would I not want to share my connection with someone like that?

Not only did I inherit her name, but I find so much of her in myself. I keep every card ever written to me, so did she. She listened to things that she maybe did not understand but always withheld judgement, I consciously try to do the same. She supported every passion the people in her life held, she inquired about those passions, and continuously cheered those passions on. My family-oriented values stem from the foundation that she laid and transferred to my father. In a previous writing, I explored the meaning of a cardinal visiting the tree next to my kitchen window and I shared how much that moment with that bird meant to me and my observation of that bird stems from her too. She is embedded in everything, and I have begun to notice just how much of her is around me.

I would be lying if I said that continuing on in this path without her seemed natural. How can there be so much treasure and beauty in someone, and the world can just keep spinning once that person is no longer present? I shared just shy of 26 beautiful years with her and thinking about any number of upcoming years without her makes me uneasy. It has only been almost three months without her, and I am unsure if the reality of it has even set in all the way. Sometimes, I find myself conversating about her as if I can catch up with her later. The worst part of it all is that the last time I saw her, I sent her a message after we left and said: "I promise I will see you again so soon!". That was almost exactly a year before she left us. I did not see her again. Now, I see her often in my dreams and my memories just wishing I could go back to those times and soak them up a second time around.

Margaret. I repeat that name in my head over and over reminding myself that it is mine and it was hers and no matter what, that simple name will always keep me connected. These words are not all I have in my heart and my head about her. I am sure I will revisit this again another time because the grief is here to stay for a while. But for now, I will remind myself that we are of the same cloth and because of that I am special in a way that I cannot describe.

Margaret

Forever

And

Ever

1/1/2023