In memory of my mother I carry on enjoying life, although with much more vigor than I did before. The arrival of every single day is more delicate, even precious, these must definitely not be abused, but properly used.
Never again will my mother quietly sit whilst soaking up the pleasure of a summers day dawning, or curl up on the sofa, book in hand, on a dusky winters evening.
Never again to quietly sip a steaming cup of tea, head to one side whilst listening to the rain plummeting onto a cold window pane.
Never again to walk underneath ancient tall trees, to look up at those old, weathered limbs whilst feeling a spring sun ray glancing her face. Or wade through fallen dead dried leaves with those firm stout walking feet.
To call for her trusty walking companion, one of her many dogs named Prince, who would be constantly by her side, even until the end.
In memory of my mother, as before, my family they always come first, but my eyes are opened wider to the joys of life that constantly surrounds me.
In memory of my mother I hug my dearest children even more, holding on for a tiny bit longer than I did before. There smiles, there tears, the sheer innocence of them all, I want to grasp in the palms of my hands for as long as I can.
The sun, it still rises and sets, the moon still appears on the horizon but all, all of this is crisper, clearer, why I ask myself, did I not see this before.
There was so many things I didn’t understand, I definitely don’t understand all, but now there is more to my soul, more than before. I understand life is extremely unsure, maybe even uncertain of itself, should it stay or go.
A question with an answer that nobody will ever know.