The Journey

As the days after her funeral things were starting to get back to a new normal without my mom.  It was a weird feeling at first I wanted to hear her voice even if it were to yell at me I missed her so much I had no one to converse with in the evening, my dad is not much for conversing with he just gives his opinions and that is fine when asking for one but not good at listening.  My mom would listen no matter how trivial she would listen.  For instance she always knew when something was wrong, example, when I lost my benefits and part time status at my job she knew just by the way I looked. 

I came into the house with a very sad and defeated look on my face.  I took my coat off and headed for the kitchen took down a wine glass and poured a glass of wine.  Some might say well that is not something strange but for me it was, I don't really drink and I needed one that night after the day that I had, she knew and said what is wrong, I shared and cried and told her I feel like I am spinning into a hole and I can not climb out.  Little did I know at that time that we would never talk like that again and I would never hear her advice on such matters.  For it was within a week she began her illness that took her life.

There were many nights after she was gone that I cried. I cried because I did not always tell her how I felt or what I was feeling I should had done that more often but always assumed there was time.  I learned life was fleeting and you need to tell the people who mean the world to you that you need to tell them now.