I see you walk across the stage and accept that diploma, glancing into the sea of onlookers wishing your mother was there to see it too.
I see you walking down the aisle wearing the most beautiful shade of white as tears drip down your face knowing the aisle will end with the empty seat your mother should be sitting in.
I see you brave the bold contractions prepared to meet your new baby while delicately glancing to the empty space beside your bed where you wish your mother stood.
I see you sign the papers on your new home wishing you could call and explain this step into adulthood to the woman who created you.
I see you meeting the love of your life and beaming with romance and joy and silently wishing that person could meet your mother, except they can’t, because she’s gone.
I see you getting that job promotion, hitting a huge goal, and making a difference in the world, all while desperately wishing your mother was just a phone call away instead of floating high in eternity.
I see you on holidays when the absence of your mother is so fierce you wish holidays no longer existed or that you’d simply be able to hide away from the celebrations that surround you.
I see you counting down days on the calendar knowing they lead to anniversaries and memories you’d rather forget and certainly not the kind worth celebrating. The days that are dreaded and lonely.
I see you on your darkest day, the days where you’re unsure how to walk into a world that keeps spinning despite your grief and heartbreak. The days where you skip a breath because even breathing has become a difficult task. I see you hurting. I see you longing for the comfort only a mother can provide.
I see you motherless daughter.
I see you because I am you.
We both share the path of a mother gone too soon. We both share the path of a mother far from our reach yet still boldly loving us from eternity.
I see your pain and longing.
I see your guilt-clouded joy.
I see your wishes and hopes.
I hear your silent prayers and your silent fits.
I hear your heart and your soul, even when they don’t say a thing.
I see you motherless daughter, living a life void of the very one who began yours. I see you living with a constant hole of what was and what will never be. I see you holding a legacy that you are honored to have but also wish it would have come much later than it did.
I see you with a mother in eternity.
I see you with a mother gone too soon.
I see you wishing life were different and praying for miracles to go back in time.
I see you because I am you.
You are not alone.
You never are. You never will be.
You are a daughter with a mother in eternity, watching from afar but loving from afar too. On my hardest days I remind myself of that harsh but delicate reality and I hope you will too.
