Dear mom!

It’s long gone, that spring day I squeezed your hand and begged you to wake up.

You never did, you had already left.

As a 13 year old, this was pretty hard.

I remember all the questions running through my head as I sat there on the bedside holding you, waiting for the ambulance to arrive, watching the colour slowly drain from your cheeks. Why? Is this all my fault? Will you never hug me again? Will you be homesick? This one’s for you, mom.

Miss you!

Akke