Whoever coined the phrase time heals all wounds obviously never lost a loved one.

I call bullshit…

I doesn’t get easier. Nothing about this situation will ever get easier. You just learn how to manage the heartache.

I miss my mother more everyday. Because every day the reality of life without her sinks in just that little bit more.

I can’t bring myself to take her number out of my phone. I have picked up the phone to call her more times than I can count – wanting to ask her a million questions. How long should I cook the beef for? What shoes should I wear with my new dress? Wanting to tell her a million things.

But I can’t.

And that hurts… every day. It will continue to hurt… every day.

In fact, the hurting gets worse. There are so many things I’m yet to accomplish in life. And I’m going to have to do it all without her.

There are so many things we planned to share together. There are so many things that are yet to happen – exciting things that I planned to share with my mum. So many things that I thought I would be able to lean on her for.

Now I have to go it without mum. And that hurt, that heartache, that horror will never go away.

Time doesn’t heal any wounds. I will carry my wound with me for the rest of my life.

I will learn how to deal with my wound. I will learn how to bury it when I want to and deal with it when I have to. Slowly, slowly I will learn how to manage the hurt and the pain, and I will learn how cope. I will learn how to patch my heart.

Occasionally the wound will scab over. But then something will happen, something amazing will happen, and that wound will start to ooze all over again. Because for the rest of my life, someone … someone who was my whole world … will be missing.


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