Losing my mom last month has left me in a state of profound sadness, a feeling too devastating each time it takes over my mind. When I was just a kid, my dad passed away, leaving my mom to raise me on her own. She was my world, my pillar of strenth. Now, with her gone, the silence in the house is deafening, each corner filled with memories of our conversations.
Life feels heavier now. It's like carrying a backpack that's filled with stones. Everything reminds me of her—the smell of coffee in the morning, the quiet hum of the TV in what used to be her room.
Some mornings , I find myself listening for her voice, hoping for a call to tell me she's just been on a long trip. But reality hits hard. I miss her advice, her hugs, and her unwavering belief in me when I doubted myself. She was more than my mom; she was my best friend, my darling.
The grief is making the days blur into one another. I often try to keep myself busy, trying to find a new normal without her. The routines we built together are now painful reminders of her absence. Even simple tasks like grocery shopping or cooking dinner can feel devastating.
In the quiet moments, I turn to drawing—a hobby she encouraged since I was little. It's one of the few things that soothes my aching heart. Each stroke of the brush feels like a conversation with her. My latest piece is a messy blend of grays and blues, colors that mirror the turmoil inside me. It's not a masterpiece, but it's honest.
In honesty I never knew that I loved her so much, I wish I could tell her.
The pain might never fully go away, but I hope to find peace in knowing that her love will always be a part of me. I just wish the loneliness would go away
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