Seasons of Grief: An attempt at processing my grief of losing my mother through verse or poetry

I sat at a stop light today and watched the cars pass me by. And in each car, I saw death. There were faces of people old and new. Each one will pass away, maybe someday soon. Some will have to leave when they're young and others will last quite a while. Either way, it will still be too soon.  I can't help but think with everyone that I see, "they'll die some day too".  And then I chide myself for thinking such thoughts.  These thoughts are not the normal me.  But the "normal" me has gone away and I fear she'll never appear again.  Every time I look at a stranger and wonder how much longer they have left, I am startled and worried at these awful thoughts. Why does the new me always have one part of my mind reserved for death? Why does there seem to not be any way of letting in light and releasing the thought of death?  Why do I now constantly think about my own death? Will it be painful and slow? Will it be something I don't see coming? Will it t...

While I sit alone in my house on this cold November day, I think about all the things you'll miss now that you've gone away.  You'll never get to hear my stories, both the silly and the happy Stories of the dates I go on that are cringy or a little sappy.  I'll never get to ask you how to know if someone is the one Or listen to you tell again how you knew dad was your forever one I'll never get to show you my future engagement ring Or go wedding dress shopping with you early in the spring And yet, these thoughts are nothing new.  I thought them first back last June when I finally new that you would not be here for me with all these new firsts And suddenly everything in my life felt agonizingly the worst.  You'd asked me if I'd met a man, Someone with promise, a future plan. But tears fell hard as I realized then, You'd never meet my future him Through all your pain, your hurt, your fight, You held me close in your fading light. A moment of love, through ...

 It's fall The leaves have come swirling down And along with them, my tears. They come suddenly like an unexpected rain shower Sometimes just a sprinkle Sometimes a torrent of howling wind and stinging water Not caring if I'm in the middle of a group of people,  Or silently shaking in my bed in the middle of the night My tears don't care if they cause me relief or heartache  My tears don't ask if now is a good time.  I can be cooking and creating a delicious meal, When they suddenly without warning just appear And fall like unwanted raindrops and cascade  My tears into my soup