Adieu to My Mom

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Love. It is what we feel, but sometimes, we do not realize it is there. It is what we feel for others that mean a lot to us. Who do I love? My mom. What do I love? The love she gave to me. Where do I love? Stanley Park, the park she brought me to for ice cream as a child. When do I love? Always. Forever and always. Why do I love? Because my mom taught me how to love. She was the one I ran crying to when I was a kid. She was the one that told me that everything would be all right because we had each other. She was the one that I wanted to tell all my secrets to. She was the one that I knew would never let me down. She was the one I let go of. When I was a child, my mom and I had an amazing bond. She was the only one that I knew who was my “family.” I had no siblings, my dad left before I was even born, and Mom never talked about her parents. One time, I asked her about where her family was. She answered me saying her family was talking to her right now. She always changed the topic when I mentioned her parents. I thought it was a game, and I would try to pry out what little information I could get. I was never successful. After a while, I gave up with it. My mom and I had a bond that no one else I knew had. We would be able to talk for hours on end with each other. Everything changed when I entered high school. That was when I went to the “big kids school.” I could not be with my mom all the time, that would be embarrassing. I did not want to be called a baby. I was officially a “big kid.” Whenever I was outdoors with my mo, I would distance myself from her. She would ask me why I was walking so fast, but I did not dare turn around. Slowly, I distanced myself more and more. Eventually, this got to the point where we hardly talked... ... middle of paper ... ...en it starts to snow, and why I only know I love her when I let her go? Why was it that I could not see this sooner? Why was it that I did not know what I had until I lost it? My love was lost in time, and I could not get it back. I made her life miserable, not the other way around. My regret is something I will never be able to erase. It will be there forever. I will never forget how I treated my mom and how I hurt her. She was my life. She is the reason why I love. My mom is love. She is who, what, where, when, and why I love. She was someone that would put others before herself. She did not mind suffering if it meant that people would feel better. She was a selfless person, and I was the antagonist of her life. I know now to appreciate what I have because it may not be there later on. I love my mom more than anything or anyone in the world, and yet, I let her go.

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