Grieving never ends

It was my mother's birthday last week. She would have been 71 years old. It seemed like any ordinary day. I took the morning off to do some errands, went to the office to attend to a million and one things after lunch, and went home. But, it wasn't really an ordinary day. It was my mother's 71st birthday and it reminded me all over again that I have never really stopped grieving.

I was thinking of her the whole day, and I do think of her time and again. I think of her during holidays, during my birthday, during happy moments, and lonely moments... I think of her when I am trying to make a decision, wondering if she's nodding her head in agreement or shaking her head and looking at me like I'm crazy.

I miss her terribly... especially when I need someone who will make me feel loved and accepted no matter what crazy things I do. I miss her terribly when I am almost on the verge of tears or about to pull my hair out of frustration or stress. I remember her running her fingers through my hair to help me sleep at night or telling me stories about her childhood in the province, about the war, about her numerous suitors, etc. She was a storyteller. I learned to love listening to stories and telling stories because of her.

I am still grieving my loss, and I don't think it will ever really come to an end.