I knew what it was before I picked up the phone.
But hearing my sister say, "I'm so sorry but mom is dead."
Hit me like a train, stopped me in my tracks, made me feel so alone.
For hours afterward, my sister's words bounced in my head.
The rest of the day was spent pacing around the living room.
Pacing, and screaming at the top of my lungs,
were the only things I could think of to do.
How could she be gone? Mom was so young.
I barely remember the days that followed.
Hugging my sisters, seeing the body, sorting her stuff.
Laying upon the couch as I wailed and wallowed.
Losing mom broke me because I always saw myself as tough.
Sometimes I forget that it's been more than half a year
I scarcely speak about the most important person in my life.
If I pretend nothing happened, I can imagine she's still here.
I need to do better, keep on living, but the pain is still rife.
I miss her every single day.
The woman who raised me.
There is so much more I need to say.
But I still need to give me time to grieve.