My Mama Guela

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If you were here, I’d tell you how much you mean to me.

If I could hug you I would.

If I could erase the memories of your suffering I would.

The kitchen isn’t the same.

It doesn’t smell the same.

It doesn’t look the same.

Its just not you anymore.

If I could tell you one last time that you were my world, I’d repeat it a thousand times.

If I had the ability to look in your eyes and say Mama Guela I love you, please forgive me…I’d fall at your feet.

You know my heart. You know my soul.

Nobody could compare to the undeniable connection that we shared.

That bond.

That unbreakable, unshakeable, irreplaceable bond.

The fact that I could cry to you. And you listened.

You listened like no one else could.

Because you heard my true words.

You heard the underlying sentiments and understood why they were there.

 

You know, it’s not the same. Las Navidades won’t be same.

Your cooking that I miss so much.

Your laugh that I would die to hear one more time.

Hearing you say Gracias Lissie, with that excitement that cannot be described but only heard… I miss that.

 

Why did you have to leave?

I need to learn so much more.

This just isn’t the way it was supposed to be…

Bendición Mama…if you can hear me.

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