Regrets

Now that you know where my story begins, I'd like to take you on a journey of where it has taken me, so far.

In the days immediately following my mom's death, things were a blur. I was still convinced that this couldn't have happened. I would shake my head in disbelief and cry out loud in anger. I had no sense of what was next, how I would go on, what to do with this sadness that brought me to my knees. The devastation of what happened cannot be described. Even having gone through it, its still difficult to explain to someone how it feels. There are just so many layers of pain and confusion, its impossible to put into words.

The one thing I have come to realize are the regrets. Regrets for moments missed, questions I should have asked, times I should have made time. They're all there, everyday, reminding me that it's too late. Reminding me that I had my chance and I missed it. I missed it.

Not a day goes by that I don't miss her voice, the touch of her gentle hands playing with my hair, the brightness of her smile. How I wish that I had saved her voicemails on my cellphone and taken more pictures. Her voice is probably the thing I miss the most. The gentle way she spoke to me, the love in her voice, the care in every word. She always made you feel that you were the most special thing in the world to her. And she made sure that you knew it. She never once let us doubt her love. She showed it in everything she did.

When I think of her now, I think about the things I never thought to ask, but seem so important now. Not knowing those things, and not having her here to tell me, it creates a corner of sadness of its own. The should of, would of, could of corner, where I hide all my regrets. The questions that I will never have the answers to will now haunt me, as I enter this new world without her.