Those Pesky Justs

How many times have you been out to dinner with a group when someone in your party asks you for a bite of whatever you're having. "I just want a taste." But you know what they're really thinking is, "I'm starving and I'd love to eat every last crumb on your plate because what you ordered looks way better than what I got."

This is the nature of "just." It's a funny little word meant to indicate that we're not as greedy as we truly are. "I'll just be a minute." "I just want one." "I'm just buzzed." When you hear people say these things, you've come to accept that you'll be waiting at least half an hour, they'd really like about a dozen and they are probably drunk outta their minds.

During this first week of the new year, I've had a recurring just of my own.

"I just want to see her."

It's no secret that I miss Elena, she's my daughter. In the three years since she died, I've struggled with many painful moments. But what I've been feeling this week has been very specific.

"I just want to see her."

I think it has a lot to do with Isaiah's development. He's Mommy's big boy now. I love to sit and run my fingers through his curly hair or watch with excitement as he takes steps toward me. And every time I look at him, my mind's eye can see a little girl with a face so similar to his holding my hand. She has long, bouncy curls and a big toothy smile behind her perfect pouty lips. And I want to see her, here.

This feeling has come over me several times a day at various times. It really overwhelmed after watching this week's episode of ER, which paralelled two seemingly unwanted pregnancies. At the end of the show, I found myself sobbing, hugging my husband and thinking one thing.

"I just want to see her."

As I've thought about this feeling, I know that seeing her is not all I want. If some strange miracle happened and I was granted the chance to see Elena as she would look now, once for a brief time, I'm sure I would think, "I just want to hold her." And if that wish came true, I'd be hugging her so tightly thinking, "I just want to push her on the swing," or "I just want to read her a story." And eventually, all thoughts would lead to, "I just want to keep her. Here. Forever."

Those justs are so misleading. I think we've all become accustomed to hiding behind them, hoping no one will see past them and find out what our true desires are. But I'm learning to deal with the justs that allow us to do all that we can, all that we're capable of. I'll continue to be proud of her, and yes, I'll miss her.

But mostly, I'll just love her.