Motherless daughters

I am jealous. Jealous of people with mothers alive and physically present. Mothers who they can touch and hug and say I love you to while looking them in the eyes. I am jealous of those who have mothers yet take them for granted.

Be patient with them. Believe me when I tell you, you will regret every single rant, every single impatient thought you’ve had when she’s no longer there to nag you, make you kulit, and be the typical mother.

I have never been affected this much by someone’s death, someone I never knew. Never.