What keeps me up

"Oh. Sorry to hear that. Were you close?"
“…. She was my mom”

What kind of question is that?
But if you must know, no, we weren’t.
And now I have to struggle just to remember the little bit that I actually knew of her.
And everything that does remind me of her sends me through a range of emotions.
Anger because she died before I could comprehend how much she meant to me.
Sadness because she wasn’t there when I graduated, fell in love, had her first grandchild.
Confusion because she chose to make poor choices that I wish she didn’t.
No we weren’t close.

Such a thoughtless question.

I think people ask because they want to comfort you somehow but death is such an awkward conversation, so they try to alleviate your sorrow by foolishly asking if the person that gave birth to you was close.
As if you not being close makes the acceptance of death so much easier when it only really makes it harder.

No, we weren’t close. But I loved her, if that’s what you wanted to know.

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