The fear of loosing a person who feels like home

Sometimes, completely out of nowhere, a thought enters my mind that I immediately wish I could take back.What if one day I have to live in a world without my mother?

I don’t like thinking about it.There is something about the thought of losing your mother that feels different from every other kind of fear. Maybe because, for so many of us, our mothers are not just people we love. They are woven into the background of our everyday lives so deeply that we don’t even notice how much of our world is built around them.Her voice calling from another room

The questions she asks even when you have already answered them.The food she makes without being asked.The random reminders to carry a jacket, drink water, eat something, or call when you reach somewhere.The little arguments that seem so irritating in the moment and somehow become the things you miss later.

Sometimes I look at my mother doing something completely ordinary and suddenly realise that this is a moment I will remember someday.

And then I feel guilty for thinking that way.Because I don’t want to turn today’s happiness into tomorrow’s sadness.I don’t want every laugh to come with the thought that it won’t last forever.

But perhaps that’s the strange thing about loving someone deeply. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know that nothing is permanent.

We rarely think about our parents growing older.When we’re children, parents seem almost permanent. They are the people who know what to do when something goes wrong. 

They know where the medicines are. They know which drawer contains the important documents. They know how to make things feel normal when everything seems unfamiliar.Then, slowly, you grow older and realise they are human too.They get tired.They forget things.

They have worries they don’t always tell you about.And one day, you realise that you are not the only one growing up. Your parents are growing older alongside you.

That thought scares me.Not because I want to spend my life worrying about losing her, but because it makes me realise how easily I take ordinary moments for granted.

Maybe I should answer when she calls instead of saying, “I’ll call you later.”Maybe I should sit beside her for a few extra minutes.

Maybe I should listen to the story I’ve already heard three times.Maybe I should take the picture even when she says she doesn’t look good.

Maybe I should say “I love you” without waiting for a special occasion.Not because something bad is about to happen.Just because she is here.

And perhaps that is the only part of this thought I want to keep.Not the fear of someday losing her, but the reminder to notice her while I have her.

Because one day, the ordinary things might become extraordinary memories.Her voice might become something I would give anything to hear again.

Her favourite food might remind me of home.A familiar perfume might suddenly take me back to the kitchen.

And a completely ordinary afternoon might become one of the most precious memories of my life.So, whenever that thought appears again, maybe I won’t push it away completely.

I’ll simply let it remind me to be present.To listen.To laugh.To sit beside her a little longer.

Because I don’t want to spend today grieving a tomorrow that hasn’t happened.I want to love the person who is here, in the life I am living, while I still get to call her “Mum.”