It was most precious thing.
The thing I liked to keep near,
Or at least know where it was at all times.
To see, to hold,
Or even be in the same room,
I felt safe.
I knew I was home.
Then one day, I lost my thing.
Unable to search,
As I knew it was gone forever,
Never to return.
My heart broke, in that moment,
Never to be mended.
There's always a chunk missing, a hole left, my precious lost thing.
My precious lost mother.
My most important possession.
(If a person can belong to another.
I think they can, when hearts are open, when they give so much... mean so much... are so much to each other.)
My mum.
I lost her when she died.
I love her love, her laughter, her strength, her friendship, her scent, her protection, her hugs.
The most precious thing in my world is lost.
**********
Almost 22 years without you.
Today is your birthday.
I will miss you always.
Remember you always.
Love you forever.
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