My mother, Vicki

by Tabitha
(Las Cruces, NM)

I was 7 when my mother died. I am now 24 years old. I miss my mother every day of my life. Some days are better then others and I have a sweet remembrance. But other days, like today, I am taken over by the grief that she is not here. I can't hear her laugh or cry. I have a 2 month old son and he will never know his grandmother. She can't hold him and tell him how precious he is. She can't hold me and tell me how proud she is of me. I ask for the billionth time, why? Why did I have to grow up without her? Why will my son have to? Will I follow in her footsteps? Did it really take her death to get me where I am today? Would I trade the life I have to get her back? I know death is part of life, but why did she have to die so young? My mother was a beautiful spirit, I can never have her back. Do I tell myself that she is watching over us just to feel better? What's the point of life? And yet I push myself to go on. I don't want my son to have to ask these questions about his own mom. Life.... it would have no meaning without death....