She always sang as if no one could hear her...

...And, most of the time, it was a good thing they couldn't. I used to tell her that some people sang in a way that it hurt people's ears - Tash sang in a way that made my eyes feel that they might bleed at times. And, she knew every word to every song - no matter the genre. Thousands of songs remain on her ipod - unused - waiting for her to bring it to life.

If you went to see a show she had seen before, she would say all the lines with the actors - if it was a musical, she sang every song. I always tried to be irritated, but, ended up laughing - her joy was infectious.

We have passed the six month anniversary of her death - and now, we count down the days to her birthday. There is no relief. I leave town - and there is no escape - her face is everywhere - everything I see pulls another memory from the recesses of my mind. I don't want to forget her - I don't want to lose her - but, for one day, I would like to be able to shut down my brain - just relax - think of mundane, trivial things - FOR JUST ONE FUCKING DAY!! One of the things no one understands is that there is no peace when your child dies. Yes, people go back to their lives - and, there are no more plans to make - but, your brain never shuts down.

In the beginning - which is where I am - it's not the good times that run through your head 24/7 - it's the what-ifs, should have's and wished I would haves that rule your days and claim your nights. Of course, everyone tells you: "There was nothing you could have done" or "You did everything you could."  But, what they don't know is THAT IS A LIE!!!  There was so much more I could have done - I should have done - had I done my job as Tasha's mom, she would still be here.  Now, how does one live with that?  I guess they would live with it like I do - with little appetite, tons of guilt, daily thoughts of giving up, and the inability to sleep.  And, what I want all those people with all the answers to answer for me is: How do I get past that?  How do I come to terms with the fact that I failed my daughter?  I was not there when she needed me the most - she had to take her last breath alone - was she scared?  Did she call for me?  Did she fight to stay?  Or, was she relieved to be done with the life that had let her down so often?

For nine--and-a-half years, she had suffered through dialysis - and, if I was being honest with myself, there was no end to it in sight.  She may never have gotten another kidney.  Her body hurt, she was lonely, she was tired - had she had enough?  Am I selfish to wish that she had fought harder?

She really was my best friend and I think I was hers.  I cannot get over the fact that she left me - I do not understand how it could be.  There are days when I feel like I could go crazy - because I cannot accept the fact that she is not here - will not be here - will never celebrate another birthday.

I have seventeen days left in which I must make a decision.  In seventeen days, my baby would have turned 28 - now, she will forever be 27.  I miss her so much - I wish I had been a better mom - she deserved a better mom - she deserved a better life.

I love you, Tash...