The Break

I remember it well. Two years ago was one of those benchmark moments where life gets measured in the before and after. His voice broke as he had to tell me that my mother had passed. My heart broke, even though we had all been preparing for this day. That awful pressure sat on my chest until I felt like I couldn't breath anymore. It felt like an endless moment where you see the glass falling, but you just can't reach out and stop it from splintering into a thousand tiny pieces. Some families fall apart over a thing like death. Not mine, thankfully. But I do find myself jealous of other's relationships with their mothers. Sometimes I just want someone to agree with me (even if I'm clearly wrong), and to baby me, and pester me, and embarrass me with ridiculous jokes. Sometimes I just want to be comforted the way only a mother can. Sometimes I resolve to always long for this day:
be a better mother because of it, to live in the moment, and celebrate life. And sometimes, I weep for all that cannot be. And I

"He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." - Revelation 21:4

Until we meet again -
I love you mom, and miss you everyday.