I hear you crying in your room. It makes me weep as well.

I miss her too. I know that she is no longer in pain. Her suffering is over, and ours has just begun.

Her favorite chair is empty and everyone is afraid to sit in it.

I sit across from you now at dinner so you don’t have to stare at her empty spot across from you, instead for me it’s easier to stare at the seat I used to occupy.

We eat, out of habit, we watch TV, but do not concentrate. Neither of us has picked up a book since she entered the hospital.

We walk around like zombies. We still jump when the phone rings, even though we unplugged the answering machine with her voice on it. “We are unable to come to then phone, please leave a message.” The sweetest words I’ve ever heard spoken.

People tell us it will get easier. Why do I not believe them.
I know that my mother is in Heaven, but I miss her so much it aches.
Listening to you cry yourself to sleep every night breaks my heart.

Life will never be the same with out her.