“The only moment that matters is now”—
But one cannot simply ignore the overwhelming dread of the inevitable,
For only the passage of time could ease dread’s vindictive hunger.
Even the best of times are moments we fear most.
A grain of worry spoils the joy of familial tradition.
One greatly grieves a loss when their life was profoundly impacted by the other,
But grieving those who are healthy and well is truly a deeper disturbance.
In theory, shunning sentiment should spare one of sorrow––
So why do I still desperately need you?
The fear of regret holds more power than any anticipation of the daunting future.
I have thought of all your gifts of wisdom yet to be shared,
Memories to be made,
Tears to be beared––
Moments only to be lost, or worse, forgotten.
Pictures alone could never do you justice.
You deserve the best of me,
And yet, you gladly take the worst.
Don’t let me forget that,
Don’t let me forget you.
I could never live knowing I have done so whilst loving nothing.
Teach me how to live having loved a mother as blessèd as you
Photo Credit: ‘The Sick Child’ by Edvard Munch