12.6.2016

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It’s happened… you’re gone. I watched your eyes flutter open and stared into their depths, letting my tears blur my own vision as I told you it was ok to leave. I held your hand long after you stopped squeezing it. The image of you scrunching up your face and delicately coughing is seared into the very fabric that constitutes as my memory. 


I watched your pink topaz and silver cross ride the weakening pulse of your heartbeat as it lay on your frail collar bone. I was determined to stare into your eyes as you quickly unfastened your soul from the confines of your body preparing to continue your journey without me.


When you left, I knew. You turned away from me and your pulse stilled. I have no one to share my pain with. It sounds selfish, I know… but that doesn’t make it untrue. You and I, we had run the same path, climbed the same obstacles and had been branded by the experience. No one else gets it. No one saw your inner beast rise to the surface to protect me when you were around to witness my assault. No one saw you stand in the face of evil and spit in it’s eye. No one saw your dim, yellowed light, pierce through the gummy, ink-black tar of the devil to surround me with an imperfect yet durable and powerful love… no one saw that, except for me.


You are my mom… “were” is not an appropriate adjective since it doesn’t stop being a fact that you birthed me. You ARE my mom. I believe that more now than I ever have. Your passing left me baring my soul and exposing my wounds to the elements of society. My foundation has been severely compromised. It will repair itself, but there will always be a fracture that leads to a pit of darkness. My light now shines a little less bright… and that’s ok. It will serve to remind me of your scent, the way your hugs felt, it will remind me of you kissing my cheek and telling me that I’m the most important thing in your life. Your imperfections were your most beautiful attributes in some ways. I love you Mom.