One month,
the amount of time for the moon to cycle,
30 days,
One month today my mother has been gone.
It seems like so much longer,
it seems like only yesterday.
I am doing fine,
I am falling to pieces.
It still doesn’t seem real.
Or real in a surreal sort of way.
Grief is so strange.
It isn’t at all like I thought it would be.
Most of the time I am fine
Then, like a train hitting my body,
I am breathless,
With a voice in my head screaming, “I will never talk to my mother again!”.
She has always answered my questions,
“How do I cook fresh green beans?”
“KB has a strange red rash”
“How do I remove grass stains?”
Now I have no mother.
I am motherless.
How can that be?
She has always been my one constant in an unconstant world.