Alistair C.

HOW TO SAY GOODBYE

I sold everything. Everything I could. It didn’t matter how old the antique it was, or how much sentimental meaning it held, I got rid of all of it. I left those pieces with each memory it held of her, what items possessed her energy. Neither good nor bad, simply her. Items worth $20,000, if even, it didn’t matter to me. It would have for her. They were her belongings after all, but she isn’t here. I am and I don’t want them. The woman I once looked up to with the highest of respect, with the uttermost love that a child could hold for a mother. The woman who looked down on me with disdain; I was not her perfect child, I never would be. But she would still tell me she loved me, and maybe that was enough. Even though I wouldn’t hear it for a long time.