Friday, June 30, 2017

50 days later

June 24th 2017

The day it fully hit me, she is gone for good. I fought all the triggers, all the remarks & thoughts that she is not here anymore.

I made it for 50 days  after her death not crying, whispering in everyone's ears that what happened was for her own best. I forgot to whisper that I lost a listening ear, a non- judgmental soul who laughed, joked and talked with me for 30 years.

Thursday, June 1, 2017

Celebrating a shadow

Happy birthday mama. Today you would've been 57 years old. I miss takeing care of you. I miss driving you to chemo on Wednesday. To removing your chemo pump on Friday, to taking you breakfast on Sunday, to walking in Central Park, to feeding ducks with Mohamed, to grocery shopping in Fairway. To sharing tuna melt in Columbus circle & chamomile tea in Alice's tea cup.

On the 7th day of your departure, I found myself ready to open the tv, I put on Friends, ordered pizza, I thought Ok let's be normal again, As I sat down I felt the emptiness of your presence. I no longer can remind you to take your pills, to check your blood sugar or ask you if you have pain every 5 minutes. I was suddenly all free & I did not like it. My tears ran down my face warm and heavy. You are free too. You are pain free.