You are still thought of,
Though seven long years have passed.
These flowers — for you.
Tag Archives: missing mom
It’s been two years since my mom passed on, yet a part of me still feels she’s just back home in the Philippines. But that feeling doesn’t last very long because I am conscious that I just can’t make a call and hear her voice again.
Life is so different without a mother, even for an adult daughter in her 40s.
I have so many fond memories of my mother as she was a funny woman who laughed loudly and was talented at story-telling. She could never tell a story sitting down — she gestured; her facial expressions changed as quickly as Chinese opera players changed masks, and her voice made it difficult not to imagine whoever she was portraying.
My mother was a very interesting character; I hope one day I can really write a story about her. She would love that. Since I started writing poetry in high school she had asked me to write about her, but I only started to write about her as she lay dying, two years ago.
One of the things I truly regret in my life was not being able to give a good eulogy for her. My mother loved drama, and she would’ve liked something dramatic at her funeral (and I say this with fondness for memories of her ), but unfortunately I failed.
Last week I bought flowers (photos above) to put next to her picture which I keep in my apartment. It was her death anniversary, and wherever she is, just in case she has a way of knowing, I wanted her to know I still think about her and wish she was just a phone call away.
Home is where …
But somehow it doesn’t feel the same
I have time alone now, something I have always wanted
But somehow it doesn’t feel as comforting as it used to be.
Your bedroom door’s open,
And I turn to look at it
And I see your wheelchair in one corner,
It’s gathering dust.
The curtains and the bed sheets were changed this weekend
Like you were still going to lie on your bed
But this room has not been occupied for months.
It’s a strange feeling — knowing you’re never coming back
But like you’re on a vacation somewhere far.
Maybe you are.
I hope you’re happy there.