Being Lonesome

My heart is aching. I think about that old country song that wails, "I'm so lonesome, I could die."
This is the first Fourth of July without Mom, yet another first since she left me. And even though this particular holiday wasn't a real big deal to us, we still shared it.
I'd take Mom to the parade and afterwards, if it wasn't too hot, we'd go to see all the vendors surrounding parts of the lake. If it was too hot, we'd come back home and I usually barbecued hamburgers. Sometimes friends would come to share our meal. And then we'd watch the neighbors' fireworks. Last year, she was too sick to remember what the Fourth of July was, but she still liked seeing the brightly colored sparkles as neighbors celebrated.
I miss my best friend.
I miss sitting on the patio talking about the flowers and how it must be time for some Miracle Grow. I miss hearing her voice, hearing her noise in the house - she was one of noisiest people I've ever known - hearing her laugh, talking on the phone, reporting on neighbors' activities. I miss all this and much more.
And Alzheimer's, that damned disease that has no cure, took my best friend away from me.
I am slowly finding my own way in life, such as organizing the Southwest Washington Walk to End Alzheimer's, which is keeping me busier than I thought, and trying to find a job and just surviving one day at a time.
But it's not easy.
I think about what Mom would do in the same situation. I know she would pick herself up by the boot straps and keep on going. Mom was so tough. I realize I am not her. I'm not nearly as tough as she was and in some ways, still is.
I also know she isn't happy, knowing something is wrong and can't quite figure out exactly what it is. I know that must irritate her and bewilder her.
I hope and my daily prayer is my God comes to get her soon and takes her Home where she will be happy and at peace.