Documents signed, blood tests complete, wires run all over me. Now I’m left in this tiny room with no one but myself.

Will my heart forget you too?

Slowly my eyes drift to my little green backpack. I pull it up to my lap and take out a small scrapbook.

Each page is covered in pictures, polaroids of people, young and old. Each page a spread of memories traded for food and shelter.

I never write their names. Each time, I don’t want to remember.

Maybe I do, but knowing they’ll be gone makes me never want to get close, to form a true bond.

This time,

I write your name until my hand bleeds.

I’ve done this operation countless times, and every time I shudder at the sight of the wires.

Red, green, and pale yellow, stained with a past I have willingly forgotten.

How can you miss a feeling you don’t even remember?

This time is different, these memories hold more value,

Hold more money,

More time.

To the one I will forget today,

Know that somewhere inside me, your love remains.

To you,

The one I have lost and will lose again,

Somewhere inside of me, you will always be found.

I will not know it, but I miss everyday we spent together.

Every moment you held my hand as a child,

Every time you woke me on a summer morning,

Even the day I tossed your ashes into a flowing stream,

I miss every moment.

They are coming to wheel me away, so I will make this quick.

To you, the one I have lost,

Thank you for everything.

To you, Mom.