By It’s only been three weeks — but I still believe I might see you tomorrow.
Mum, It’s now three weeks since you left us and moved into the afterlife.
You can’t feel pain and are free from the limitations cancer brought upon you.
Never in my wildest dreams did I think you wouldn’t be here today.
Now I know why that small voice inside constantly coaxed me to spend more time with you. It was trying to help me make more memories with you.
I walk past your place many times a day and look inside as if I will find you there — mending your miniature garden or baking some bread in the oven.
Instead, your apartment is motionless, without your arms of warmth, filling it with love.
Now it is just like a home someone occupied once, and now they’ve moved on.
It almost feels like you went on a holiday. That’s the last trip you have made in your life. Your home is now the confines of a grass field with a marble plaque on top.
You know that life has been challenging for me — but not as heart-wrenching as losing you.
Losing you was the most brutal blow to my heart of all the many obstacles I’ve ever faced.
Some days I’m caught up in the busy motions of work — so busy that I forget about you for a while. I forget about how much my heart aches and that I miss you so much. Then, when the workday ends, and I remember your sweet face, the pain starts all over again.
Today I asked myself — when will I feel your presence again? When will I see you in my dream — to know you’re alright?
But the answers don’t arrive, and my inner voice doesn’t speak to me anymore. Have I lost that too, as well as you?
Mum, I know you weren’t well, and death was your only release from the confines of your sickness.
There was no other way for you, no matter how hard I pushed, yearned or prayed. It was your time to go.
But I still miss you; I still can’t let you go.
I don’t know why I still hold onto you, like the umbilical cord that gave life to me. Part of that cord is still attached to you, which will never dissolve.
Mum, how can I continue with this hurt, scratching the jagged edges of my broken heart?
They say time heals, and I need time to let it settle — to ease my grief a little bit at a time, every day. Yet, I still hold onto the tiny fragments of love you scattered, now left behind.
Mum, I know you can’t see this or hear my heart yearning, but I’m lonely without your love, kind words and the haven you always encompassed.
As winter turned into spring, I saw you in all the flowers that bloom. Their rebirth is as yours was.
When I see a perfect flower blooming in a garden or the sky filled with shades of purple, orange and pink — I know you’re showing me this exquisite picture because you’re part of it.
In the beauty of the world around me, I see your face and hear your voice. That’s how I remember you.
That gives me peace, comfort and eases my suffering — even just for a moment at a time.
That’s how I will see you. The flower that glistens in the wind, waving your petals at me — mum, thank you — you were always there.