It’s been 13 days since you passed away now. I have to tell you, it’s exactly like they said it will be, and at the same time, nothing like they said it would be.
When I first heard that you’d passed, the entire world seemed to shift on its axis. Everything changed in that moment, and yet, nothing did – at least on the outside. People I didn’t know carried on around me, living, laughing, finding joy in the smallest of things. Me? well I carried on too, but not in the same way. I have carried on through a haze, a fog, a field of silence, deafening at times. It’s true that the grief encompasses you, consumes you. It’s also true that you feel the pain physically, a deep, terrible ache that you feel everywhere, and yet nowhere at the same time.
Mom, how I’d have given anything to see you, talk to you, touch you one more time. Just once more. How I long for this still, deeply. Do you know that tears keep coming long after you think they have stopped? That the pain stabs at you unexpectedly and without mercy? I wonder how you dealt with your own mother’s grief and feel sad that I never asked.
In the moments since, I have reevaluated everything in my life, not once or twice; but many times. Though fleeting the thoughts are, they press at me in the corners of my heart. They twitch and sear beneath my consciousness and ask: why? are you doing what you want? is it enough?
So it’s everything and nothing they said it would be, all at the same time. The days have blended into wave after wave of grief, pain, regret, what-if’s and the deepest sorrow. This they say it will be, but what they don’t say, what no-one can really express is how it feels to lose you, Mom. I didn’t want to join this club.
I miss you Mom.