If only

It's been about a year and 5 months since my mom passed away. Yet she still dwells in my thoughts, her scent still fresh on the tips of my nose, her voice just a memory away. I ache for her touch, I crave for the warmth in her heart, to cuddle with her in bed. I miss the memories of me complaining about my ugly feet hands and nose and her quickness in defending and scolding me,

"No Sarah, they're beautiful!"
"No mom, you're only saying that `cause you're my mom. Of course you think that."
"No way they're really pretty!"

I really miss it. I miss the way she'd compliment me when I supposedly looked nice.
"Oh my Sarah, you look so beautiful! You look so good in that!"
"You're the prettiest girl in the whole wide world!"
Who else would say this to me but my mother.

I'm pretty used to her absence by now. But it's still hard to grasp. It's still hard to believe. Especially after I think about the memories, her face, the conversations, experiences. I then wake myself up and realize I'll never see her again.

What hurts me the most, is how I always neglected her. Never giving her the quality time she ached for with her favorite and only child and daughter. Even through the 2 years of battling with the deadly disease and chemotherapy, I knew deep inside I should stay home and keep her company. I even delayed going to my dream school for a year to stay home and commute to a nearby school to take care of her. Only I ended up making more plans with friends, coming home late, leaving her empty and alone in the house everyday.
I never helped her once.
I wasn't there for her when she was probably feeling lonely, wanting company.
I wasn't there for her when she threw up all day.
Though she was fragile and sick, she managed to cook and provide dinner, clean the house, drive herself to chemotherapy.

I can't imagine what it would be like to have a daughter like me. She always mentioned that I never spend time with her and how I'd leaving everything I was doing to make time for a friend. What a jerk I am. How empty the house must have felt without my presence there with her. I don't know why she loved me so much.
If I could change the hands of time, I'd drop the world and spend every minute I could with her.

She longed for a relationship with me, to have mother to daughter talks, asked questions. I'd just shrug my shoulders and moaned in annoyance when she kept talking. Who does that? She longed for heart to heart talks but I shut her out. Not because I hated her, nor a bad relationship. We got a long great and I loved her dearly.

My heart is weighed by the guilt of my selfishness and lack of maturity. The lack of serving her, the lack of expressing my love to her whether with words or by actions. I will forever be scarred in my heart for never being the good daughter I should have been. A forgiveness that is redeemable by God, but never to myself.

Sigh.
If only.
It's always the matter of "If onlys."

This guilt soaks my face with tears, my pillow wet.

People think I've moved on. They forgot the tragedy. Of course they should. My silly character and over excitement proves to the world that I am strong, I've let go and embraced the past. Little do they know that I still think of her daily, my heart still heavy with guilt, hurt, brokenness. Missing her. My heart crying for her.

Mom. A word that will no longer be on the tips of my tongue. A word, name, a figure no other woman will be able to replace in the future.

I just want my mommy back is all.

If only.

-S.k