I didn’t get to tell her I loved her…or hear it back from her.
All those small things I took for granted while growing up. The assuredness that she would be there for birthdays, Christmases, my wedding, and even mundane days where we sit on the couch and watch crime documentaries.
I’ll never spend another moment of my life in her presence.
I knew she was sick. I watched her wither away, but my brain never processed what my reality would become. How different it would feel.
I no longer find comfort as I walk through my childhood home. No longer feel the warmth that my mom radiated.
I don’t want to feel anything without her.
Her scent is strong and all it does is remind me that she should be here filling the house with her radiant energy, but she’s not.
I come to a stop in the living room, my chest unbearably tight.
How am I supposed to go on?
How am I supposed to go on with my life without the person who has been there beside me from day one?
How am I supposed to say goodbye to someone I’ve known my entire life?
I’ll never see her smile again.
Never hear her laugh.
Never taste her cooking.
Never crack jokes back and forth.
Never hear another daily confession.
I’ll never be able to pick up the phone and hear her sweet calming voice on the other line.
Like when she’d call on the weekend asking how I am.
Or incessantly tease me about men I was or wasn’t dating.
The good-natured meddling.
The funny dog memes she’d send me only to call two seconds later laughing hysterically.
My heart suddenly stops.
I don’t have a mother anymore.
My knees give out.
My lip trembles.
My hands shake.
My eyes fill with tears.
Grayson is there beside me in an instant, but his scent is not my mom’s. His touch is not the one of my caring mother. His voice is not her soothing tone.
I will never feel her comfort again.
The tears fall and the sobs wrack my body until all I know is endless misery.
