Mom's standard answer would be, "You'll be all right."
Oh, how I miss mom's confident assurance. It will always make me feel better somehow. At moments of doubts when life wasn't going the way I plan or even at moments of boredom contemplating on a future of more of the same, mom's assuring affirmation that my life will turn out all right will always settle my disquiet.
Mom's comforting words were not all that I've lost when mom passed away. For some semblance of what I feel that I've lost I've added below the eulogy I wrote for mom right after we buried her on November 5th 2010 at 1.15 pm:
"Mummy love, your pain has ended for which I am eternally grateful, but mine has just begun. How do I define the emptiness you left behind? My best friend, my confidant, the place I run to when there's no where else to hide, my shelter from storm; how many other innumerable ways can I describe to you for which I have lost today. Mummy love, I know I trouble your spirit with my tears, forgive me for adding to the pain you have already endured while on this earthly plains, but mummy love, who will I turn to now when no one else can cure my pain? You were the answer to every question I ever dared ask and now I know the answer to the biggest mystery of all, how can one hurt so much simply from loving someone without any boundaries: the answer lies in the very nature of that love itself, and know that my love for you is limitless as my insurmountable pain will attest to that fact."
I still feel the same way I did back then. There is nothing on this earth that can cover the gaping whole in my heart left after mom moved on.
People say time heal all wounds. I don't know whether not enough time has passes or whether this is one wound that time cannot heal.