My day will look different from yours tomorrow.
Tomorrow you will wake up and your mom will still be here. The nightmare and fear of her not being here is just a distant thought. You will go through your day knowing, at any point, you can pick up the phone to call her. You know a listening ear and judgment-free zone is just a phone call away.
Tomorrow you will wake up and know you can get in your car or get on a plane to be greeted by her warm hug and a thousand I love yous.
Tomorrow you will wake up and know something I don’t. You will know what it’s like to have your mom.
Tomorrow I will wake up and count down the days, minutes and hours that make up six years to find out how long I’ve been without mine.
Tomorrow I will wake up and be reminded that it wasn’t a bad dream but it became my reality six years ago tomorrow.
Tomorrow I’ll wake up and know I can’t pick up the phone and hear her voice on the other end no matter how many times I dial her number.
Tomorrow I will wake up and know she will never answer my calls.
Tomorrow I will wake up and face the reality once again, as I have for eight years, that I can’t drive to her house or get on a plane to reach her because nothing travels as far as Heaven.
Tomorrow I will tell someone I’m missing her but it won’t be the kind of missing where she’s gone on vacation and will be back soon.
Tomorrow I will wake up and know something you don’t. I will know what it’s like not to have my mom.
You will go about your weeks, months, and years always knowing she is there. It will be automatic to invite her to events, plan holidays with her and include her in your life.
I’ll go about my weeks, months, and years no longer knowing the feeling of her simply being there. She won’t be on the invitation list, she won’t be addressed in the holiday cards, and she won’t be included in my life.
Tomorrow I will wake up and be hit with the reality that for eight years and for forever I will have that constant reminder of my reality. A constant reminder of the one day out of all the others that changed my life forever. A constant reminder that my reality is one without my mom.
Tomorrow you will wake up you will know something I don’t and that’s what it’s like to still have your mom. You will read this and you won’t be able to understand this feeling or reality if your mom is still alive.
Go hug your mom.
Go call your mom.
Go tell your mom you love her because my tomorrow could become your tomorrow any day.
This post originally appeared on Grief to Hope with Nikki Pennington