My mom died. Suddenly and unexpectedly. No warnings or goodbyes.
I am 33 years old. You were just 61.
I choke up when I mention you and Finnian sweetly and confidently proclaims that you are “sleeping”. I can’t bring myself to speak of you in the past tense.
In the midst of the pain I am comforted by knowing that God’s timing is perfect, despite how inconvenient it is for me.
I miss you terribly, mom.