Last night, amidst the unsettling quiet of the night, I found myself in tears. It hit me so hard, I was just deeply hurt. I couldn’t seem to console myself. The tears would just keep falling and I allowed them to be. It was very hard to hold everything together. Every song that played on the radio reminded me so much of my mother. It’s as if she were still alive, and I was looking forward to calling her when the sun rises. I got out of bed, lit one of the three candles that was no longer burning on her makeshift altar, and said a prayer. On and on and on, I just kept crying. In the past three months, I’ve never cried this much. The longing was so deep, so intense it’s almost palpable.
I always try to go about my day as happily as I could. I keep my mother’s memories behind me— like a bed always left untucked. And then the feelings way down inside surges and I am forced to deal with them. I guess I have to be comfortable with the thought that her loss will now be a part of me, that life will never be the same, and hopefully I'll be all right. I know she's close, but gone.
