Even now, over a year later, it can wash over
me without warning.
My mother’s not here anymore.
You tell yourself to get over it, be an adult,
it’s all a part of the life cycle.
It doesn’t help.
Instead, a tsunami of sorrow floods over me.
That nothing and no one can console.
She used to tell me how much she missed her
own mother after she was gone, about how she felt, well, OLDER than she should
afterwards.
I couldn’t relate then.
I seem to relate just fine now.
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