You just get used to it.
It is 2 years today that my mom passed away and I'm still waiting for it to get better.
For it, whatever it is, to feel better inside.
Yes, life goes on. It has to. I have to go on but the pain and sadness is the same.
The images in my mind have not faded. Those last moments, have not faded.
But life goes on.
I've heard over the years that with certain loved ones, there is not a day that goes by without a thought or memory of them.
It is so true.
I remember upon waking and when going to sleep.
I've come to accept that while time may heal my broken heart, the crack will always be there.
The glue that fills that crack, is me moving on with my life.
Being the best at whatever makes me happy, like she told me my entire life.
That acceptance does not mean that I still don't have overwhelming moments of sadness.
Acceptance does not mean that I don't have fits of anger, at the unfairness of the illness that stole my beautiful mother from me.
Even though I know, that she didn't belong to me.
I still start sentences or thoughts with, "she would love..." and then I remember.
I'm still waiting for that to stop, because it annoys me. Why bother finishing a thought for something that will never be.
The future, that she won't see.
There was so much that I wanted her to see me accomplish.
So much that I wanted to give her, for all that she did for me.
Even to the very end and I mean the very end, she was worried about me. When she should have been worrying about herself.
That makes me feel guilty, still.
That guilt also comforts me and is a reminder of the thoughtful and kind person that she was.
I have comfort, that she was comforted with her spirituality and faith.
We didn't share the exact same beliefs but as long as she was content that her life and beliefs would lead her to paradise, that's all that matters.
After all, it was her journey.
Till we meet again.
Till next time,