don't miss you any more significantly on the day you died, but on all the days you didn't.
This hits hard. Every single "Mothers Day", my mother expects a tirade of love and gratitude. It isn't that day that matters. It is how you treat someone literally every other day of the year that matters.
It is the same reason my wife and I do nothing for Valentine's day. We both agree that we don't need an expensive restaraunt, flowers, or fancy, bloated boxes of chocolates for a single day, because we can do that anyday.
And ... that's what mourning is like to. There's the day it happens, then there's every single other fucking day after that. Mourning isn't a task that is ever completed. It is the insignificant, boring things that get you to remember the person that is gone, and that you're the one left behind.
A sort of survivor's guilt. I am glad the type of car my dad used to drive is rarely on the road these days, because the sound of that motor, the incredibly distinct sound of that door seal meeting the frame of the vehicle. All unexpected reminders.
Every
single
day
matters.
RE: Do I have enough...?