“Remember this.”
my mind muttered to me
“Remember how it feels to lay next to her, to feel her beating heart and her gentle breath against your skin.”
“Remember how it feels to be comforted simply by her presence, by knowing she’s right beside you.”
“Remember feeling whole, complete.”
I tried and I tried to hold on to everything in those last few days but when you lose someone like that,
when you watch your mother die and are completely helpless,
everything blurs and memories turn into sensations.
The only memory that vividly remains is being fourteen years old and holding my mother’s frozen hand.
Porcelain Prose 