Loss creates loss. The loss of the part of me used/illuminated with Andrew; ready to laugh, curious about his thinking, enjoying being a part of his boy/man life. Engaged in being the mom to him.
A writer once said to me, her works were her babies; a way of being a mother to someone without a child. Did I lose a part of me when Andrew died?. And my answer today, is not entirely.
Like a stone with different sides, those parts of me milder but still recognizable, do come out. Sometimes with a sliver of sadness attached. Curious and sad when talking to a young man about his life.
Maybe we don’t lose parts, they are pushed down, subsumed by other timely or needed parts like a mom to a daughter, a partner…as we go through a life?
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