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Mother love doesn't end
Originally appeared on spirituality.com
I was 4,000 miles from home when my mom died. I’d just turned 24, and I was in graduate school in France. My mom had been ill, but I never expected her to die when I was so young.
That was over 20 years ago, and I still wish she were here today. But in the days immediately following her death, one idea helped me a lot: the understanding that just as my love for her hadn’t ended when she died, neither had her love for me.
Mom was a lousy correspondent. If I received a letter from her once a month while I was in France, that was a lot. Still, I never felt as though I didn’t have a mother just because I didn’t hear from her much. I loved her and I knew she loved me, and that bond wasn’t weakened in the least by distance or lack of communication.
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