As I clean up a very long ago website which I ought to have let go earlier, I found this post on grief, on my ma.

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Sep 17, 2012
It’s difficult to just box up 27 years worth of memories and not dig any up when the conversation drops to silence. It’s difficult, but I always think of you when I face something different, or something familiar even, and wonder what you would tell me.

Face Life bravely and never do anything wrong.

It’s been 1 year, 6 months, and 27 days. Can you believe that? Like a favourite song of the past, I hear your voice in the distance, laughing after telling a joke because it made sense at that time. How I miss you so. How I miss the strong shoulders that bore all our troubles. How I miss your knobby finger joints and paper-dry fingertips.

Sometimes, when I walk into your bedroom, I would recall a very old memory where I asked if you would die before me. You told me, “of course”. I cried, as a child I cried so hard, knowing that I had to say goodbye eventually. Even now, as I remember how we said goodbye in the cold hospital room as you took your last breath, I’m crying for the years ahead without you.

I can be strong, and I will be strong. But I get lost sometimes, walking home and knowing you won’t be waiting for us to come home for dinner.