Today is Mother’s Day in the US, and since last year, I’ve celebrated the holiday without my mom. She passed away in late 2019, and although the pain still lingers, I’ve slowly come to heal over these past almost 18 months. A day doesn’t go by without me thinking of her, and I often tear up when I think about her death: slow, painful, and cruel. She was only 59 years old when she died, and even though I have no regrets spending time with her throughout my childhood and adult years, it’s sad to think that we weren’t able to share several more time with each other on this Earth.
Before my mom died, Mother’s Day had been a joyous celebration, with a nice lunch out in town and a gift of her favorite sweets (chocolate-covered apples and strawberries, Godiva chocolates…). I also made arts and crafts for her as presents to show my appreciation for her. It was after she died that Mother’s Day took on a different tone, a more-somber one: now, my family and I go to visit her grave to pay our respects to her. No more nice lunch or chocolates, but rather well wishes and a prayer for her happiness in Heaven and that, some day, we will also join her up there, to be reunited as a family…
Happy Mother’s Day, Mama. I miss you every day. ❤
— The Finicky Cynic
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