My son will say something that dazzles me and reminds me of the beauty in the world.

I will come to the anniversaries of loss and wonder that you have been gone for 35 years, or 13 years, or five years, or less. You will come to me in my dreams and I will know you then as I once did.

My heart will turn black with envy, or worry, or shame, or anger. I will rage and rage and rage, until I remember our time here is short and then I will let it go.

Sometimes I will overeat and drink too much. Other times, I won’t.

In the dark night, I will worry over my health and promise to take better care of myself.

I will lie next to my child at night and he will tell me that there is no better mother in the world and I will believe him and know, as always, that this life we are living together is precious and should never be taken for granted.

Often, I will fear that I will lose you only to discover that you are not lost.

 

 

 

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