My mom when she was young.

A Note to Mom

I thought about you today. I think about you most days. Your smile, your laughter, your kindness. 

And how annoying your voice was when you’d yell at me to “wake up and get ready for school!”

Sometimes, I think about how proud of me you said you were. Sometimes, I think of how disappointed you might have been. Like when you caught me drinking in grade eight, or when I was 15 and you found out I smoked weed – by the way, I haven’t toked in over a year now and I rarely get drunk these days.

Anyway, I just wanted to say hi. I miss you.

It’s been almost ten years since the world took you away. It feels like it was just yesterday. It feels like an eternity.  

I’d give anything to hear your voice again. Or to give you a hug. 

I’m not sure if we’ll meet on the other side. I don’t believe in the afterlife. In heaven or in hell. Not in a paradise above the sky or a prison beneath the ground, at least. Those places are reserved for the living – for those who believe in themselves, or those trapped in a nightmare in their mind. 

But I guess that doesn’t matter. Because part of you is inside of me. The memory of your smile, your laughter, your kindness. 

I was fortunate to call you Mom – or Jackie J, J-Dog, and the number of other nicknames I had for you.

To those reading this: do yourself a favour. Reach out to somebody you care about and tell them how much they mean to you. Someone you see every day. Someone that has slipped out of your life. Anyone who left a mark on your heart. 

Don’t wait until it’s too late. Life isn’t always fair and death doesn’t discriminate. 

This one’s for you, J.

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