My father died in 2015 and, with him, part of my mother.
She didn’t die in a romantic “I can’t live without you,” kind of way, she died as in the mom I knew and grew up with.
Or perhaps she’s shedding a skin she never wanted? An assignment she never consented to?
All I know is that the mother I’ve counted on for nearly 40 years isn’t there anymore. And I don’t know how to tell her. I want her to be happy and fulfilled… and I wish she would call me sometimes.