Bucket

There are days when I can feel the sadness welling up inside of me.  The sorrow rests just under the surface and I know it is going to appear at the most inopportune time.  I am aware of the impending tears, because little things make me weepy - watching the kids sleep, reading the paper and being faced with all of the heartache in the world, Hallmark commercials (the Mother's Day one with the mom going through the cards her daughter has given her over the years still makes me cry).  I can feel the sadness tonight.  I know the tears will come and I will cry for so many things.  I find it cleansing - a chance to wash away some of the hurt.  The crying usually ends in smiles.  Memories of happy moments push aside the sadness and I relish in the joys of life.  

I remember Wavey and how she loved her pink bucket.  She used to say "but-et" (her way of saying bucket) over and over again as she wandered around with it hanging from her arm.  I cry because I wish I could hear her say that word again.  I long to hear her beautiful voice, that only lives on in videos and my memory.  Oh how I hate the changes that have occurred in my sweet baby girl.  But then I remember how precious that little voice was.  I am so grateful that I can hold onto that memory, replay it over and over again in my mind.  The smile comes...