In Memory

My stepmother passed away on September 29, 2006. She was and still is the closest thing to a mother I have ever had. I will never understand why someone like her had to die so young, but I guess death never makes sense.

I wrote this shortly after the two year anniversary of her death.

The house, once filled with warmth and laughter, now sits empty and lifeless. One might peek through the shutters and mistake the inhabitants for people, but upon further inspection it becomes clear that they are no more than shells; artificial beings going through the daily motions of life. They once knew of love, hope, and happiness. They even knew of sadness and anger. Now, void of all emotion, they go about their lives pretending to be human. They used to be a family full of dreams. Their love was formed during hard times, which made it stronger and deeper than most. Love ran through their veins, and even when they were on the verge of breaking it held them together. As this family was traveling through life together, they came across this vast gap in their path. Not realizing what lay ahead of them, they kept pushing forward. Before they knew it, one of them was gone. When she was taken away, it broke the chain of the family, making it impossible for the other links to reconnect. The father was no longer a father; the daughter no longer a daughter. Now they sit with their eyes shut in the dark house, listening and waiting for some familiar voice to call out ''I'm home.'' But the only thing that can be heard is the beating of their hearts. This is the only reminder of their old life. The only reminder of good times...of love.