The nice thing about blogging through this experience is the comments of support & commiseration I’ve received. Actually, one of the comments I received led me to check out someone else’s blog. There, I discovered what it is I really am mourning.

I’m not mourning the past. I am mourning the future.

I know I had a good relationship with my mother. I don’t regret any moment of the 33-years I had with her. Yes, I wish I had asked her more questions or told her more; but still, I have no regrets. What is now the past was good.

It’s the future that I’m mourning. I’m mourning what she will not be here for. She won’t be there to answer the phone when I call after work to ask if she wants me to pick up food. She won’t be at my brother’s graduation next May. She won’t be there to celebrate any birthdays or holidays. She won’t be there to tell me how old I am in a picture taken when I was a child. She won’t be there when/if I get married. She won’t be there when/if I have a child.

That’s what I’m mourning. It’s the reality of the future that is setting in. It’s the future that’s hard.

Image: brun_o via flickr

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