Approaching Year Two

In a little more than a month, it will be two years since my mom left her mortal form. At this point, I’ve developed a new life in her absence. I wear my hair differently (I’m exploring transitioning to naturally kinky hair for the second time); I let my cleavage feel the summer sun; I don’t take anyone’s BS; I ask for what I want, instead of assuming someone will read my mind; and I no longer fear speaking to others. I’ve had to develop a tougher exterior to protect myself in this cruel world. No one will do what Mom did for me. I have to survive!

Gone are the days of incessant crying spells and bargaining about my perceived mistakes in her final months. Yet, it never really feels normal. In the summer months, I can rejoice in the heat because there’s no mental connection to her demise. But as fall starts, I’ve noticed I begin to feel empty and disconnected from reality. Last year, it was hard focusing at work, and I’m sure this year will be more of the same given my new job responsibilities. I still rarely look at Mom’s last pictures without tearing up . When I do, it feels like it’s been eons since we lived together. Memories of our lives before 2020 feel like peeking into a world that no longer exists—like Mom.

I use one of her old entertainment stands to keep images of her and my other ancestors. I see them before I leave out to explore this lonely world. I believe their strength now resides in me. I want to pursue my dreams and free live as much as possible, so that I have fantastic stories to tell them when I get to Heaven.

“So how did it go once I got to the Golden City?” Mom would ask.

“It was hard, but you taught me well. I chased my dreams and did just about everything I wanted. I’m glad to finally see you again!” I would gleefully reply.

I don’t think about dying much, but I’m fully aware that it can happen at any moment. I don’t take my health for granted like I did before Mom passed, especially after witnessing a stranger’s loss triggered severe insomnia, and damn near caused a nervous breakdown. Life is a rollercoaster, and while I’m riding it, I’ll enjoy my time. I think Mom would want me to embrace all the world offers. She would want me to keep going. The fight is never over!