My Worst Fear

I dreamed that my Mother died in essentially the same way that my Father did: somewhat mysteriously and shrouded in unanswerable¬†questions. In my dream, my Mother died suddenly by a car accident or heart attack, quite possibly both. I head of the news through another party, a secret party, but I didn’t know exactly who it was who told me. When I heard about it, I was devastated and found my most favorite picture of her. I couldn’t keep the picture to myself and I decided to post it on Facebook. I placed her picture, of her looking royally at the camera with a handful of strawberries still attached to the root springing from her fingers. I left the most beautiful tribute to my Mother, but not one of my Facebook friends said anything. Nobody liked or commented it on it at all. It went unacknowledged. I left computer feeling extremely sad that I expressed my pain but nobody else saw the importance of it since I was adopted and shouldn’t mourn the loss of my real mother, the one I look and act exactly like. After leaving the computer, I looked in the mirror and started to apply make-up to my face. I penciled in my eyebrows and shaped them. I applied mascara and eyeliner. I looked beautiful for a face that wasn’t any longer my own, but inside I felt empty because of how much I miss her. To this day, I am worried that she will die and I will not ever truly get the opportunity to get to know her. We speak different languages now and we are a world apart.