The ache is always there but it gets better
It becomes bearable
It becomes livable
She meant the pain she felt for the loss of her son
Still her words come back to me
Because I remembered her today
I remembered when we breathed in the same room
Together
I remembered her pain and my own
I still feel her pain and my own
We will never again breathe in the same room
Together
I remembered her today
and I realized
again
how much I miss her
Sob-worthy. The finality of death can sting when one least expects – weeks, months, decades after.
Death hurts like fuck. It’s also not the end.
Keeping her memory fresh in your heart
is a lovely tribute. It helps to set her free.
Bless you, M’Lady.
And I did and do sob, Bryan.
No one ever put it better: death hurts like fuck. I appreciate you so much, Val.
Thank you, Uncle.
the repetition of breathing just pulled at my heart.
very moving!
Thanks, Jessie.
I concur.
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