I woke up at dawn and watched the skies go from grey to indigo. Up there in the sky was a shining light. Big, bright and beautiful.
As the sun made it’s way over the horizon… the light from the star grew dimmer until I could only vaguely guess the position of the star. It didn’t mean it was no longer there. It just meant that I could no longer see it with my naked eyes.

That’s so much like grief.

The other day a friend mentioned that I’ve been strong and gotten over your loss, ma. She didn’t realise that all she was doing was trying to see that star in bright daylight. But my life without you is just darkness.

Though the world only catches a glimpse of my grief on dark nights, that gaping hole in my heart and soul always exists. The emptiness of merely existing instead of living. That unanchored boat in a storm feeling.

I’m glad I’m catholic, it gives me hope. It gives me hope of being reunited with you once more. It gives me solace to imagine you in your white shining robes, singing in your wonderful, unique voice. One day, I’ll be able to hold your hand once more and walk around the streets of heaven. I hope it will be soon, ma!
I miss you.