Two years ago, mommy passed away.
I've accepted her death and have moved on with my life. It has gotten easier, living without her here physically. And recalling and recounting her last few days do not sting as bad as it used to.
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| Mommy and me at Vigan, our last family vacation with her, April 2009 |
Still, there are days when I forget that she's not here anymore; when I get lost in memories, too lost sometimes that I think of calling and texting her, and suddenly, I get jolted by the reality that she's gone.
There are even more days when I miss her; when I wish she were well and alive.
And here.
And here.
I wonder how three years would feel like.
*****
Eight months ago, I gave birth to our son.
Ziv has been a constant source of pride and joy. I've never felt this kind of love for anyone in my entire life.
Even if he makes me not sleep through the night, even if he wakes up just before I'm about to take a nap, even if he cries in public, even if he's cranky because his teeth are coming in, even if my breasts get sore from pumping--I'd choose to have him again if I were to go back in time.
Happy 8th month Ziv. I hope you're liking it here.
1 comment:
I had the same thought last week, as I visited Papa in the cemetery. It has been 13 years; he died in 1998 (we were freshmen then, how time flies!). I still miss him, as you miss your mom, but it will get easier and a lot less painful :)
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