The Tomb

Yesterday was the birthday of my mom. She could’ve turned 73. She could’ve celebrated her special day with me and with my family. No matter how I pretend, she just can’t be physically seen anymore. God, I still baldy miss her so much!

I’m amazed by my mother-in-law. Every Monday, she visits her departed husband in his tomb. She never missed a single Monday since he died in 2006. Although he left a child from another woman, her unconditional love remains even after his death. She must have already let go her pain long go but her love for him is always there. I don’t know if the phrase, move on, is applicable to her. All I’ve observed is that she continues to live like she’s still married and still has a husband to take care and to look after to.

What does she do there? She regularly cleans the mausoleum and the tomb. She brings flowers. Most of all, she talks to him as if he’s in front of her. She must be happy of doing that. No one can last of doing it if happiness is not what’s felt.

I didn’t understand it until my mom passed away. Every time I visit her tomb, there’s calmness. As I breath the fresh air in the cemetery while the branches of the trees are swayed by the wind, I feel peace. Then in my mind, I see my mom sweetly smiling at me. Then I’m simply happy knowing I still feel her mysterious presence.

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