I Miss My Mommy

She was in my dream last night. I remember whispering to my sister, who is going to tell her we gave away her store and most of her closet.

I have to remind myself that she is not coming home. We left her pajamas hanging on the back of the bathroom door for months. As if she would come hoe and put them on and life could return to normal.

It won’t. Death is the most final thing in the world. We live in a world where we unequivocally know that not a soul, ourselves included, will make it out alive. What does “make it out” even mean? When you lose someone close you seriously consider the afterlife, and explore your notions whatever they may be of what it means to pass on.


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