I miss her

I miss my mother tonight. She told me, I would miss her. I did not know how her absence would feel, later on, over years.

The pain a child feels over loosing his mother NEVER fades aways. He would feel the void in the mid of the happiest moments, he would feel the pain even harder when he would suffer. And he would always wonder how would his life have been, if his mother would have been there still.

He would try to picture her getting old, and find it impossible to deal with that frame. He would close his eyes and try to feel that one last embrace. He would wonder, every step of the way, “What would you say?”.

“Would you be proud of me?”

He would run to her grave, on his graduation day, on the day of his first promotion, on the day when his heart would be badly broken; after the day of his marriage, after the day his own child would be born. And he would try to keep her memory alive, with every candle lighted on every Sunday morning.

Yes mother, you were right; I wish you weren’t. Because I know that for every tear on my face, there is one on yours, too. I love you. And you make me smile.