Its been over a year since she left. Since she started living with me in spirit. Yet when I look at her picture on my desk for a length of even 10 seconds, my mind plunges into abysmal emptiness. I feel myself falling into depths I have never known before. I have to snap back almost immediately. If not, then her last physical form flashes before me. I feel the coldness of her face when I saw her being rolled out.

I hate it. I hate everything about her leaving.

Remember you played games as teenagers asking, if God granted you one wish, what would that be?

I have my answer.

I would like to feel her warmth again.

My mother. My strength. The one who made me, me.

I love you Ma..

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