Like every other morning since my mother's demise, I woke up with a heavy heart and I lay in bed, praying for the strength to get through the day.

My mother was the most important person in the world to me and when she breathed her last, my whole world came crashing down. Everything else was a blur after that, the wake, the funeral, collecting her ashes and placing the urn in its final resting place. It seems almost unreal that she is no longer around with us and I wish I could wake up from this bad dream and find her sitting at her usual spot at the dining table, but alas, she is really gone.

I sorted out the stack of bills my mom kept, looked through the notebooks where she made all her little notes in her neat, precise handwriting. Marveled at how organized she was, up to the day she was admitted to the hospital. All these things remind me of her and it is as if she is never really gone.

I opened her cupboard and just sat there, staring at her clothes and chanced upon a carefully kept photo album. I opened it, they were all pictures of me during my training days, my graduation and the day I did my flight training. My heart clenched. My mother never told me she was proud of me, but L, who attended my graduation with my mom, said I should have seen her face when I went up on stage to collect my wings, she was beaming with pride.

Although I could not fulfill her dream of seeing me happily settled down, at least I had the chance to make her proud for once. I do not really know how to go on from here but at least I am holding it together. My mother, she always knew what to do.

I miss her dearly.