Every day I see her look up at me with a child-like smile…
She sits
quietly as I comb her beautiful grey–black hair, wincing every time I hit a knot…sensitive
as always and refusing to comb out the knots in her hair as always…
Every day I
watch her and miss her…the laughter, the inside jokes, the arguments, the
knowing glances…
I regret every
moment in my life when I snapped at her constant questions…questions that I
wish she’d ask now…
I regret
not engaging with her more…I yearn for her opinion now, even unsolicited ones…please
criticize my dressing style, please tell me off for coming home late, please
just tell me anything…mom
Each day as
she becomes a shadow of her former self…my heart breaks just a little bit more…
the beautiful smile, the hands that look so much like mine…the posture, confidence,
and beautiful mind I wish I had inherited…all fading away…
Each day, as
I watch her become more of a child, I break a little inside…
Is it wrong
to grieve for a loss that hasn’t happened yet?
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