My mom turned 49 on April 9th this year. Ten days later, she was dead. My mom was my best friend. She was the way I measured my success in life. When I was a child, I longed for my mom to be my friend. She told me, repeatedly, that her job was to be my mother, not my friend. She also said that when I was older, we would be friends. As a teenager, I never believed her. As a 28 year old woman, not only were we friends, we were mother and daughter. That bond is so amazing and I can't believe that I longed for something different (stupid teenager).
I don't know why my mom is gone. I don't know what she was going through in her final hours. I don't know much of anything. What I do know is that I miss her more than I knew I could miss someone. I feel lost. I feel alone. I'm angry. And I'm scared. I'm scared to go back to my apartment. I'm scared I'll forget her. I'm scared I'll disappoint her. I think what I'm scared of most, is that I won't ever be able to tell this story . . .
