Life Without Mother

Dear Mom,

I have nothing to say really
Except how nice it would be
If you were here next to me.

Each day brings a new sunrise
Without seeing the sparkle in your eyes
That left every joy undisguised.

Each time I think I’ve moved on
The ache returns ever strong
Perhaps this bruise will not last so long.

They say grief crashes like the waves
Rolling, building, cresting until it caves,
Crashing with intensity few can brave.

I argue rather the great river of grief
Better illustrates the silent thief
Never ceasing to steal relief.

Is one year long enough?
Others have it more rough.
Comparisons are tough.

These rhymes are becoming weak
But the emotions continue to leak
As the memories are reaching their peak.

Shall I share a few more
Thoughts that I’ve come to pour
Out of a heart so sore?

Often I feel the outlier
As though my daily grief would mar
My loved ones both near and far.

The truth is that all would say
They’d rather honesty than hiding away
Yet how do I begin to convey…?

Thus here I am in the dark
Leaving another minuscule mark
Not quite as “happy as a lark”.

Not to make light of your absence
I chose a poem because I was on the fence
Of feigning indifference.

I will end the poetics there, as I could probably write more, but the rhymes would become more and more nonsensical. Simply the challenge and structure has already worked out some of the ache inside. What prompted this particular ache as of late? Nothing in particular. Everything all at once. So many things that I wish I could process with you. There’s just something about “calling up Mom” that is acceptable, when even friends might have a limit. (To be clear, the LORD has blessed me with ample patient friends who sit through my verbal processing — it’s just not the same emotionally inexhaustible freedom of my mother on the other end of the line.) Lately, I’ve particularly remembered senior year and how much we talked. I’ve mentioned it before, but it still stings.

I wrote more prose. Elaboration on all the things. But, by God’s leading, I’m signing off here. May He be glorified in the honesty of a broken heart laid bare. He is the God of all hope, and in that truth I’m secure.

Your daughter,
Hannah