This Pain Won’t Fade
How fleeting is the human experience. We craft our ambitions, expend our energy and time on trivial pursuits, chasing after success, wealth, and the approval of others. Yet, those who genuinely love us—the ones who gave us life, who would never betray us—we often place on the back burner…
I recognized this far too late.
My father departed early, and my mother devoted her entire existence to me. He passed away when I was still a child, succumbing to a severe illness, and my memories of him are scant. Only my mother always spoke of him as a wonderful man.
She never remarried.
“I loved only him,” she would say. “And I still do. I believe we will meet again someday.”
I listened intently to her stories, watching as her eyes sparkled with light whenever she reminisced about the past. She believed in love, in destiny, in fairy tales.
But her life after my father’s death was far from magical.
I was her only son, and she dedicated herself completely to me. She worked hard, cared for me, and did her utmost to ensure I had everything I needed.
And I…
I forgot that parents are not eternal.
I left and embarked on a new journey while my mother remained waiting.
Five years ago, I got married and moved to a different town.
We welcomed a son named Henry.
Life picked up its pace. Family, work, then a second job—I needed to earn more money, provide for my child, plan for the future.
I called my mother less frequently.
I only visited during the holidays.
She was always waiting.
“Everything is alright, my son,” she would say. “What’s important is that you are well.”
Yet I hardly noticed how time slipped away.
How she slipped away.
The call that changed everything
A few days before New Year’s, the phone rang.
I saw an unfamiliar number.
“Hello?”
A trembling voice responded:
“This is Oliver, your neighbor… Your mother has passed away…”
She suffered a heart attack. She died in the hospital.
I listened to those words, but I couldn’t grasp their meaning.
My world crumbled in an instant.
I stood there, holding the phone, unsure of what to do.
And then…
The tears fell freely.
Bitter and piercing.
I wept not only from pain.
I wept from guilt.
Forgive me, Mum…
Forgive me for not being there.
Forgive me for not finding the time to tell you how deeply I love you.
Forgive me for letting you go alone.
Now you are gone, and life will never be the same.
I would give anything to have back just one day. One evening. One hour.
But time cannot be rewound.
And to say “I love you,” I arrived too late.
