“Oh, hello my baby, welcome to the world-” 

Birth, at 34 weeks my mother had an unplanned cesarian  

due to her health conditions conflicting with the pregnancy. 

Though she wasn’t ready to be a mother, 

she loved me like her own without hesitation. 

I don’t remember much from when I was young. 

Even the memories I do know, 

they were all told to me by my mother. 

Shouldering the burden of parenthood alone. 

My mother always held my hand tightly. 

Always looking out for me, 

even when she herself was afraid. 

Despite my persisting defiance. 

When I turned 18 my mom could no longer protect me. 

I soon longed for the comfort of warm hands. 

Living away from my sun, 

my days became filled with partying and pulling countless all nighters. 

I shrouded myself in autumn’s embrace. 

Before I even knew it, the trees outside were completely baren  

and the calls back home to my mother became few and far between. 

 I immersed myself with the college lifestyle. 

Studying for finals and cramming whenever I could,  

whilst going out with friends on weekends. 

As I waited in the ICU room all night, 

nurses and doctors came in periodically. 

Their voices being drowned out by beeping monitors. 

The light in her eyes was gone as if it was never there. 

Little did I know the sickness that plagued her  

took that away long ago. 

I had forgotten the feeling of her warmth. 

A feeling I took for granted. 

But I will always need my mother. 

Who will I come home to on the holidays? 

Who will cheer for me when I graduate college? 

Who will teach me how a mortgage works? 

Will she ever get to see me married—to have kids of my own? 

How could her clock stop ticking when mine had only just begun.