The tears come, sometimes several times a day, sometimes just once. Sometimes they swoop in unexpectedly, brought on by a random word heard or scent in the air or sight seen. Sometimes they are anticipated, the expected result of tackling certain tasks or facing a now-changed routine. Sometimes they burst out after the fleeting thought of picking up the phone to share a little slice of life is met by the reality- no one is there to answer the phone.
Sometimes the tears are unwanted, resisted, yet every time, they are healing. Every time they offer some comfort. Every time, the tears give way to a smile as good memories come.
I miss you, Mom.