With the anniversary of my Mother’s death steadily approaching, I become emotionally unstable and I lash out at the unfairness of it…Yes, her memory i keep alive through words, through dedication but I long for touch - I long for warm tears on my face, my head buried in her chest…The thundering of her heart, soft words spoken in my ear and yet, I have never had any of these things.
Sometimes the Altar feels cold, feels like she’s just ‘gone’ and it scares me a little. I am a keeper of bones and yet sometimes I feel so alone.