A LETTER TO MY BELOVED - COMPLETE

Grievances & Loss

Mum passed away a long time ago. Several months, to be precise. We've always shared a home in the large metropolis. She worked a part-time job, yet she always made time for me. That was the most essential thing to her. To spend time with her daughter and only child.

We used to spend time together every week going to art courses, book stores, weekend picnics, and four-day trips to somewhere lovely on national bank holidays that fell on the weekend. We accomplished everything as a team.

Hello, my name is Quinton, and I'm a painter. I've always loved painting since I was a kid. As a child, my mother exposed me to painting. Those were the days when I was carefree and unconcerned. It was something I would do after school in my leisure time since I enjoyed it.

I'm what you'd call a kooky individual. I'm a little shy, but when I need to be, I'm not afraid to speak up. I'm not much of a social butterfly, but I do have a few close friends. I had to relocate after my mother died to live with my older cousin and uncle. They reside in a small town in a faraway state, distant from the large city. My home state, my hometown.I was born and raised in Buffalo, New York. It's a pity I couldn't remain any longer after my mother's death.

At the very least, it fits my personality quite well here. It's a little strange, but it's a lot of fun. Millington is a tiny town located two hours south of Atlanta. There are a few bookstores, good restaurants that serve all of my favorite cuisines, supermarkets such as Walmart, 7-Eleven, and Costco, and one elementary, middle, and high school. My uncle lives just a few meters from the bustle of the little town's core.

I discovered a small, charming art supply store that hosts art lessons every weekend. Kayla, my older cousin, informed me about it. My first weekend here, she took me around the store when we were out and about in town. She was gracious in taking the time to show me around. It was thoughtful of her.

I'm not saying I already enjoy being here, but I miss my mother. I miss New York, as well as my previous life and friends. Everything about home and the folks I left behind makes me long for it. But, at the very least, FaceTime and video chat keeps me in touch with my family and friends back home. But I'm never going to see my mother again. Not if I die first. And that isn't going to happen anytime soon since, as my uncle usually says, I have an entire life ahead of me to live.

Things could be different, I wish. They aren't, however. And all I can do now is grieve the only way I know how.