08/12/2026
**I Wish I Had Thanked You More, Mom**
I wish I had thanked you more, Mom.
I wish I had known, while you were still here,
how many things you did for me that I was too young, too busy, or too unaware to notice.
I wish I had understood the meaning behind your tired eyes,
the quiet prayers you whispered when you thought no one was listening,
and the nights you stayed awake worrying about me while I slept peacefully.
You loved me in ways I didn’t always recognize.
You gave without keeping count.
You forgave without asking for an apology.
You worried without telling me.
You sacrificed without ever making me feel like I owed you anything.
And now that you’re gone,
I would give anything for just one more ordinary day with you.
One more conversation.
One more hug.
One more moment of hearing you call my name.
I would even give anything to hear you say the things I once took for granted.
Because I never realized that one day,
the voice I could always hear
would become the voice I would spend the rest of my life wishing to hear again.
Now I understand what strength looked like.
It looked like you.
You held our world together while quietly carrying your own pain.
You smiled when you were tired.
You stayed strong when you were hurting.
You made sure everyone else was okay, even when your own heart needed someone to hold it.
You never called it strength.
You simply called it being a mother.
You believed in me before I believed in myself.
You saw something in me that I could not yet see.
And even now, when I feel lost or afraid, I still hear the echoes of the things you taught me.
Be kind.
Be patient.
Have faith.
Keep going.
Don’t let the darkness change your heart.
The world has changed since you left.
There is an emptiness that words cannot explain.
A silence that no one else can fill.
People say time makes the pain easier.
Maybe it teaches us how to carry it.
But I don't think we ever stop missing our mothers.
We simply learn to live with the ache of loving someone who is no longer here.
Sometimes I still find myself wanting to tell you something.
Something beautiful happened.
Something hurt me.
Something made me proud.
Something made me afraid.
And for just a moment, I forget.
Then reality comes rushing back—
and I remember that I cannot call you anymore.
That is the part that hurts the most.
So, Mom, if somehow love can travel beyond this life,
I hope you can feel mine.
I hope you know that I remember.
I remember your sacrifices.
Your patience.
Your warmth.
Your prayers.
Your hands.
Your voice.
Your love.
I’m sorry for every time I was too busy to listen.
For every hug I could have given but didn’t.
For every “thank you” I left unsaid.
If I could have one more chance,
I wouldn't ask you for anything.
I would simply hold you.
And I would finally say the words I should have said a thousand times before—
**Thank you, Mom.**
Thank you for giving me a love I will spend my entire life trying to understand.
You may be resting in heaven now,
but you did not really leave me.
You live in my memories.
In my prayers.
In my heart.
In the kindness I show.
In the strength I find when I think I have none left.
And every time I keep going despite the pain,
every time I choose love instead of anger,
every time I whisper a prayer when life becomes too heavy…
I know a part of you is still here.
You are no longer beside me, Mom.
But you are forever **within me.**
And perhaps that is the greatest gift you ever gave me—
**a love that even death could never take away.**