The holidays were always the best time of the year for me.

It was a time of unparalleled happiness.

I was in charge of decorating the Christmas tree, and I helped my mother with making dinner. Ah, the happiness.

Getting Christmas gifts was my favorite part of it all. I used to anxiously wait for Christmas Eve to put them under the tree, to gather with my family, and to exchange gifts.

My mother used to say that Christmas meant rebirth and renewal. She used to sing Christmas carols with her soft and soothing voice, while I watched her making the food and cake.

Since 10 years ago, the holidays have no longer been beautiful. Now, it’s a time of unparalleled grief.

I no longer decorate the Christmas tree, and exchanging gifts and making dinner are no longer enjoyable. I can’t even bare listening to the Christmas carols that Mom used to sing.

These days, I’d love to hide and escape deep within my soul to meet up with my mother, alone.

I want to meet her and chat with her. I want to tell her all about what happened after she was gone. We have been separated, and the house has been empty without her love and voice. Life died, candles were blown out in front of her Virgin Mary’s photo, and the smell of her morning coffee vanished.

The beautiful image of the holidays has been broken in my mind. All that is left now is the echo of her voice and complete emptiness. I remained a child until the day I lost her—I’ve been growing older and older, and I don’t know if it’s ever going to stop.

Ten years ago, I lost my mother in the holiday season. She went away, and she was the one who gave me life, joy, and knowledge. She was my haven in times of difficulties, and she gave me everything. But, for the first time ever, she also took away from me everything.

Her death took away what’s beautiful and happy in my life. She stole my heart, and I’ve become so lonely despite the fact that I have all my family and friends around.

My queen is gone, and I’m no longer the princess on her warm lap. I’m now stripped of my soul without her.

You see, I’ve always been good at solving problems and giving others advice. I pass on the wisdom of my life experiences to others, and I tell them that nothing is impossible in this life. We are a bundle of emotions, constantly oscillating between joy and sadness, depending on life’s conditions. There is a solution to every problem, and I’ve always been able to conquer all my troubles.

However, there was only one trouble that I could never conquer: the death of my mother. This loss doesn’t weigh any other loss in life.

When a mother dies, don’t try to search for anything to fill your void because you won’t ever be able to find it again, anywhere. You’ll be confused and wonder what’s left for you in this life to make you happy, comfortable, and safe. It’s impossible to seek an explanation or an expression that could convince you that you are still sane and alive.

I lost my sister when she was still a baby, my father, my brother, and my first husband. My grief was big, but I was always able to find myself again, heal my wounds, and move on with a beautiful memory of them.

But when my mother—my queen—left, my grief was different. The pain was more intense, and the loss was much bigger. A mother’s death leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

My sadness over my mother’s death won’t ever go away for as long as I live. Grief has taken shelter within my soul ever since the day she passed away.

Her death made me lose my balance and sanity. With time, when we lose people, we forget their details bit by bit, but we never forget our mother’s details.

Missing her has overridden my love for life. Her motherly smell never leaves my nostrils. Sometimes, I wake up to the sound of her voice—I could swear she calls me by my name at night.

My mother was a special lady who taught me how to be a woman. She created within me a version of herself that is still alive within me to this day.

Today, I’m alive, but I must confess that I have lost half of what I own: my health, my courage, my willingness, my contentment.

I must confess that I no longer see the colors of life the same way I used to, and I no longer differentiate between tears and laughter.

My mother taught me not to lie, but I lie every day when I smile, laugh, or behave in a rational way. I’ve become a brilliant actress through hiding my own agony.

My tears never stop. Sometimes, I call to her, and she responds with a breeze of air that smoothly touches my cheek. I can still feel her warm hand on top of mine.

I’ve filled my garden with all the yellow roses and cyclamens that she was passionately fond of. I look between the trees, and I see her. Is this really her? I run to hug her, but she’s not there.

Ah, the sadness. I wish I can hug her for only one minute or hear her calling my name—her voice never really left my ears, anyway.

Her beautiful facial expressions live within my heart and soul. When I touched her right after she died, she was still warm, and her warmth has stayed in the palm of my hands. Whenever I miss her, I kiss my own palm and take all the warmth that she had given me on her deathbed.

I envy the angels because they see my mom every day, they hear her voice, and they see those eyes that are filled with affection. Pain overfills me, and the more time goes by, the more I feel homesick.

Today, I’m making the dreams and goals that my mother had planted within me come true. But she’s the only one who’s missing. She’s the only one who completes my joy. I try to keep myself busy to not think of her, but alas, she’s constantly present, and her energy is imprinted on my days.

If your mother is still alive, please benefit from her wisdom, her love, and her warmth. Do not fight with her because when she leaves, it will hurt a lot. A mother gives life, so give her all the love in the world.

A mother forgives, unconditionally loves, and sacrifices. Take advantage of the time you spend with her because when she’s no longer there, you will wish to see her again, even for a glimpse.

Mom, you will always be the queen of love and kindness. I will always feel your breath on my pillow, whispering the sweetest words in my ears. I’ve looked for so long for another warm lap to host me, for another compassionate heart, for another passionate hug, for a soul that unconditionally loves me the way you did, but I failed.

My love, my queen, my yellow rose, my cyclamen, I wait for the day we will be rejoined again and go back to your lap.

They say that the world is a mother, but I say that a mother is the entire world.

~