Member-only story
The Last Day Before Tomorrow
A Note for My Son
Hold them close
because when they have the wings,
they will become a poem
which you will love to read.
I had to write this today because today is still mine. Tomorrow, it will be a different story — a memory that I will embrace. You’re ready to leave the nest.
Tomorrow is your graduation day, and it’s the last week of your school life.
Today, while you were at school, I already felt the emptiness. The sound of your quirky conversations, the cheerful “Mummy, I’m home!” — your sunshine that fills the room. It’s strange how we learn to live with the noise, and when it’s time to sit with the silence, it becomes so difficult. Silence will be that poem which I will be writing again and again knowing that you will never read them.
I think you already know it will be hard for me, even though I don’t speak about it. Instead, you find me sitting with books or typing away, like I am doing now. It’s as if you sense that I’m trying to fill the sadness in my own way. I’m not sure whether you’ll miss school life or not, but I know your mother will miss the innocent questions about what I’ll pack in your tiffin for the day. I don’t know how your school memories are, but I am happy I was there with you…
