Bucky,

I'm sorry I have not written anything in several days. I guess I just haven't had the motivation. I miss you more than ever, of course, but there's been something else that's bothering me. I thought the feeling would pass, but I was wrong.

I've been thinking about my mom a lot, Buck. I've been thinking about her little habits, like how she always made a wish when the clock struck 11:11. She always told me, "If I tell you what I wished for, then it won't come true."

She didn't have to tell me what she wished for, though; I knew she always wished that daddy was still with us. Maybe that's why her wish never came true-because I really did know what she wished for. Or maybe it doesn't work like that; maybe God brought Greyson into our lives because of one of mom's wishes. Maybe I should give it a try. If I did, I'd wish for you to be with me. I'd wish for my mom to be with me, and I'd wish for my dad to be here with me.

I don't think I've had the time to really consider how many things I miss now that mom isn't here. I'll never hear her humming in the kitchen again, nor will I walk in and see her with that hideous 'kiss the cook' apron that had belonged to my dad. I'll never feel the warmth of her hugs again. I'll never have a reason to sit by the window and wait for her car to pull in the driveway after being gone for days on end for her work. There are a lot of little things that I really miss now that I'm sauntering around the Barton house. Each of them have their own little habits, and I just can't help but miss all of my mom's little habits, too.

Hey, speaking of 11:11, it's 11:11pm right now.

I wish you were here so I could tell you I love you in person instead of writing it on paper.

Yours,

Marlena