9 months

It's been nine months since I warhced my mother take her last breath. It's been nine months of pain that won't go away.  I will admit that I don't cry every day anymore, there are some days that i forget, but then when I do remember, I feel guilty for having forgotten, if only for a day. How could I forget how tiny she was, that she fit into toddler pull-ups?  How could I forget the horrible rattle of her lungs struggling to inhale? How could I forget thinking that I gave her the morphine in her final hours in the hopes to ease her pain, but never knowing if in fact I sped up her dying?How could I forget talking to her and not knowing that she heard or understood me ? How could I forget the pink  mosaic nightgown that she passed away in? How could I forget the morning of her death where she continued to have these awful, green slimey bowel movements when she hadn't eaten in a week?How could I forget the shape of every bone in her body, because there was nothing left of her? How could I forget the priest coming to say last rites 5 minutes too late and the look of horror on his face when he saw her? The past nine months would have been a whole lot easier with religion, that much I know for sure.  Maybe that's why the pain is still so raw, because I know that it isn't going to happen like the religious people say, I would love to believe it, but I can't.  It's hard to not just talk to her, I fucking miss her, it hurts, it still fucking hurts.

Almost over

I can't believe that I am almost done with school. Literally weeks away.