Mum

I do not know how to begin this.

I have replayed our life together so many times in my head, and every time I come back to the same place.

You gave everything.

And I took it.

You struggled. You worked hard. You carried more than anyone should have to carry.
You loved, even when life was not kind to you.
You dreamed, even when there was no space for dreams.

And you had me.

You had me when it cost you everything.
You had me when you were just a child yourself.
You had me, again and again, every single day.

And I…

I always demanded from you.
I always took from you.
I assumed you would always be there.

I thought there would be more time.

More time to sit with you.
More time to talk to you.
More time to be together.

And when you needed me the most… I was not there.

And that is something I will carry for the rest of my life.

I am sorry mum.

I am so deeply sorry.

Not in the way we say it in passing, but in the way that heavily sits in your chest and does not leave.

I loved you, Mum.

I loved you in my own way.
I tried to show it.
I tried to say it.
Maybe not enough. Maybe not in the way you needed.

But I did love you.

And I wish I had done more with that love.

If I could trade everything I have now, everything I will ever have, just to sit with you one more time, I would.

But I cannot.

And that is the hardest truth I have ever had to live with.

So now I am here, in a world where you are not.

And I have to find a way to live that is worthy of what you gave me.

I cannot go back.

But I can go forward.

I can have you with me.

In the way I live.
In the way I treat people.
In the way I choose to show up in the world.

You are not here anymore. But you are not gone.

You are in everything that made me. And I will spend the rest of my life trying to be someone you would recognise and be proud of.

Someone who finally gives something back.

I am sorry, Mum.

I love you.