I was not prepared for my mom’s diagnosis. I was not prepared for her to die. The 5 1/2 months of her illness felt unreal and its only now…4 1/2 years later… that I can see how I did not and could not internalize that she was indeed going to die. I took care of her to the last moment. She took her final breaths while I held her hand. That gives me peace. I know I was with her to the very end. Helped her. Stood by her. Took care of her. Cleaned her. Changed her. Did everything I could do…both emotionally and physically. I thought that would help me cope after… and it does… somewhat… But still…regret found me. I wish I had taken more pictures. I wish I had taken video. I wish I took her for more manicures and pedicures…we only went once. I wish I coloured her hair more often. I wish I took her to the park more often. I wish she lived with me longer than those last 2 weeks of her life. I wish I spent more hours. I wish I had slept next to her. Regret…hard as I tried to prevent it…it found me anyways… I miss her. Every minute of every day. Time does not take that away. I hear her voice. I talk to her. I convince myself that she can hear me.