Empty chairs, empty mailbox, empty heart, empty voicemail.
It’s been 5 years now since we lost you and it never seems to get easier. As the years go by I become less and less tolerant of complainers, of people who never seem satisfied with their life, their lot, their appearance, their fitness, whatever it is, they just aren’t satisfied.
I look around me. Life is tough, I often feel it’s unfair, but I’m alive to breathe another day. Sadly, you aren’t that lucky.
I often wish the phone would ring, that I would see your handwriting on a letter in the mailbox – that I would wake up and it was a horrid nightmare, but no.
Now, the milestones roll by un-noticed, because you were the only one to always call me to see if I was ok.
Now life just rolls on by and everyone is doing their own things. No one notices.
Where did life go? How did I get to be this age, Middle Aged, where did my youth go? Where did you go? Why did you go? It hardly seems fair.
Today marks the 5th year we have celebrated your birthday without you. Today I just feel deeply sad, deeply alone. I miss you terribly.
Time doesn’t heal the wounds, mum. They lied.
I have no words.
