Miss You Tomorrow
Trying to treat the thoughts through therapy, but a tomorrow with you never comes. Today remains my reality. A today without you. A today in which you don’t exist.
“I want to see Nana”, your 2 year old grandchild says with a beam as bright as your aura, and my heart shatters a little. I want to see you too.
Mentally stuck in yesterday, I kept everything of yours the same. Nothing’s changed in the room, so to me – and maybe to him – you’re still here.
Your wardrobe, untouched, silently – yet saliently – stares at me every night. And near it is the place where your heart resides, a daily reminder of how much you loved us. It is where you placed the pictures of your children, graduates and all. Your pride and joy.
You instilled in us the importance of education. More than that though, you taught us to be kind and show love. Values, virtue and vices; you knew how to teach, share and reprimand respectively. Still, subsequent situations have made me partially lose my way. It’s in this my worries lie; I fear losing a part of me, because it means losing what’s left of you.
Each day is a reminder of your existence, and I wouldn’t wish for anything less. But I would wish for more. I wish you were here. I wish time was mine to control. To go back to a past where everything was perfectly imperfect, and today was my yesterday.
The theme tune to most of my childhood was ‘Closest Thing to Heaven’ by Ghetts. Reminiscent of all your qualities, the song always reminded me of how much I wanted to make you proud. The song was usually followed by Kanye West’s ‘Hey Mama’, a reminder of the sacrifices you made and the love you exuded. Still, it is ‘When Will I See You Again’ by The Three Degrees playing in the background that makes me ask the exact question. At which point darkness deceptively creeps up again and I find myself staring into an abyss.
Surrounded by shadows, everything feels cold. Forever frozen in time, unable to thaw myself into a tomorrow where everything is different and I can move (on). Unfortunately, until I shake off this irrational logic that moving on means to forget – to no longer feel -, my mind will keep rewinding and replaying scenes from a happier past.
Yesterday you were here, tomorrow I pray you will be too, so today I keep everything the same.
Until tomorrow comes.