I long to see

*assingment: take the short story "I long to see" and make one of your own.
I used just the title and feeling I got from it honestly, and here it is. This was my first assignment for my creative writing class.

I Long To See

A moment, a voice, a simple smile. Things that we take for granted...well I took for granted...every single day. A voice that I both loved and hated to hear sometimes. A moment that I reveled in and despised occasionally. A smile I always treasured. There are moments in my life I will never get back, and many I simply will never have. I will never see my mother hold my daughter. Never see her grin as she looks upon her face. I will never have the moment back where I rest my head on her chest and as she strokes my hair feel that the world is safe somehow, that I am safe somehow. There are words I will never hear again, and some I will have wished to hear my whole life. I will never hear her yell “congratulations!” to me at my college graduation, never hear that waver in her voice as she tries to hold back tears as she whispers endearments and encouragements for the rest of my life. I will never hear that simple sentence again “I love you”. There will never be a moment in my life when I forget her smile...but oh how I long to see it! I long to see her eyes light up, to dance with that joyous mirth when she told a joke...or pulled somones chain...or rubbed my huge baby bump. To see her full of life again!


For one day, one hour, one moment I long to see HER. All that made her who she was. Her humor, her pain, her constant love, her constant kindnesses. There was never a shortage to those moments of kindness or love. To people she knew her whole life or to people she met less than a minute prior; she never had a shortage of kindnesses to give. A hug, a wise piece of advice, a hand crocheted blanket or scarf, a book recommendation, a prayer, a bolstering word of encouragement, a single tear of shared grief. Nothing contrived, nothing forced, nothing that was not from the bottom of her soul HER. She was simply that good. Was. What a horrible word I have to use to describe my mother. A dirty word now in my life. Was. She WAS amazing, WAS beautiful, was was was... But I can say she IS who I strive to make proud, even now. She IS who I dream of being like in so many ways. She IS who I will remember and long for till the day I die and join her many years from now...and in that moment I will no longer long to hear, see, or touch her. I will simply be.