Like, she's actually gone. Like, I'm really never going to see her again. Like, "Hey, remember when they put your mom's body in the ground and threw dirt on it? That's the last image of her you're ever going to see for the rest of your life."
She's not at home waiting to for you to take a break from college to come visit her. She's not eager to hear about how you did on your midterm. She's not even going to answer the phone when you're attempting to make Persian rice to give you verbal instructions as best as she can and say "Why didn't you watch me all these years?"
Like, she's really gone.
My throat swells. My heart pounds. My mouth gets so dry. All of a sudden, I feel so small and the room feels so big and empty.
I can't even cry. I'm just in shock.
This can't be real life.
Just came across your profile and this post resonated with me. I too lost my mother to cancer, AML, in 2008. It feels suffocating as they near death but then when they're gone, its numbness. Now, I think oh she must be in the shower or busy with work that's why I can't call her. Some weird reason it helps make it less permanent. Then there's days that doesn't work. Those days its like what you said, you realize you can never share another experience with them or introduce them to someone new in your life. Wish you well and pray you find peace in her memory.
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