I really miss

I really miss my mom

I heard her say, as we lied there together.

Silence, among the white noise, and again “I really miss my mom”.

I put my hand out for her little fingers to hold.

And thought of all the other little babies, little souls, missing those that gave them life.

I think of my eight-year-old self, missing her daddy. The deep internal ache and loneliness that came when my mom traveled. As if I couldn’t bear to be without the one who gave me comfort.

And I think of all the ways caregivers provide love, provide coregulation, and comfort to those little people who grow into adults that provide that again for their little ones.

I held onto her little fingers, thinking of her heart, and wishing it to always be whole. And I waited there until her breath began to slow and her mind likely to dream.

And then I was there when she woke. Holding her, comforting her. Knowing one day she’d hold her own, and comfort their little heart.

by brittanymurray

I am many things: a friend, aunt, sister, divorcee, now wife, want to be mother, recovering alcoholic. My voice and writing comes from my pain and joy, and is deeply influenced by my experience as a Licensed Mental Health Counselor. I currently reside and am a Seattle native.


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