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.