There will come a day, where the TV show you loved ends. When your favorite author no longer pens a new novel to read. When your favorite ice cream parlor closes forever.
These pieces of you are shattered glass. Mostly catching the rays of the sun and beaming them back to me. But sometimes, just a few times, they prick and I bleed. I hurt, just because of the connection these things have to you, dear Mama.
The show- you loved it because the extended family came together every Sunday to share a meal. The author- she was a local girl, overcoming adversity with her passion for writing. The favorite ice cream shop- a simple chain in our hometown. Our place.
Sometimes I partake in these joys, forgetting the connection to you. Other times, I feel you so present.
But there will come a day when they cease to exist. And I do not welcome the rush of that moment.
Because- there will come a day where some, simple, easy connections to you are taken away. When the novelty of a flip of a channel, a page or the joy of an ice cream cone no longer bring your memories rushing forward.
Perhaps, it’s because we are meant to create new one. New memories, even with your physical form gone. “Mom, you’d love this wacky new flavor!” or “Can you believe he decided to act in that movie after 10 years on such a different kind of show?”.
At least there will come a day where I see you again. And until that day, dear Mama, I seek you out in many corners of this world. Until there comes a day…..