23.

You would hug me, and tell me it's okay to cry as much as I need to. You would bear witness to my pain in a way no one else can. If you were here to love me through this grief, you would let me be as sad as I needed to be for as long as it took. You would listen to me talk, hold my hand, and make space for the ugliness. You would remind me that I'm human, to stop putting such grand expectations on myself. You would remind me of my own strengths and wisdom. You would shine light on important things I am overlooking. You would be there for me. You would be there for me in a way no else else can because you're my mom. You would make me laugh in a warmhearted way while still honoring the vulnerabilities of my pain. You would remind me to ask myself what I could learn from this - where I could grow. You would just show up in your usual way, and I would be able to be my true, authentic, vulnerable self, and you would love me through it all. If you were here to help me through this, everything would soften. It would be easier to gain perspective. You would help me with that. How am I going to do all of that on my own? I am trying, but one thing I know is that you are irreplaceable. There's nothing like your love for me and it's so hard that you're no longer here. Your death is the hardest thing I've had to go through and normally you would be the one helping me through it all. I still talk out loud to you about everything. It's just so hard not being able to hear your voice respond. I wish we could sit together and talk just one more time.