The Betty to My Wilma
She’s the Betty to my Wilma, my sister-from-another-mister 🤣, the one who just makes life, well, better. Now she’s far away. Still texting, still calling, still here in spirit, but not beside me. Some days it feels like I’ve lost a limb. The laughs, the random chaos, the little moments that made life feel full are gone for now. Mindfulness doesn’t make the missing go away. It just lets me feel it without spiraling. The tug in my chest when I want to tell her something ridiculous. The ache when I remember it’s six months until the next hug. The little spark of joy when my phone buzzes with her name. I try to treat all that as proof of love, not a problem. Missing her means she matters. Longing means connection is still alive, even from a distance. So here’s what I do: Breathe in, think I miss you. Breathe out, think I’m grateful you exist. It doesn’t close the gap, but it makes it easier to sit in it. Even if she’s not here, she’s still the Betty to my Wilma, just as ...