I opened Instagram the other day
A friend from high school had posted a story
It beautifully described her mother
It wasn’t a birthday wish
But a painfully poignant ode
A tribute to a parent – gone too soon.
I remember seeing her mother in school
Fit as a fiddle,
Free as a bird
Wearing a wide smile,
Having a good time
I wondered what had suddenly gone wrong.
I thought about writing to my friend
We’d known each other for a few years
We’d been in the same class,
Attended boring tuitions,
Even acted in a play together
But had lost touch after school.
Yet, I typed out a message
Wanting to know how she was.
The words were carefully penned
The sentences expressed concern
The emotions were genuine
But, I never sent it.
My mind went in circles
What if the pain was too raw
What if the message was a trigger
What if I don’t deserve to know
What if she doesn’t remember me
After all, we weren’t even close.
And yet, my mind wanders again
What if maybe
The pain could’ve been healed
The grief could’ve been eased
The nostalgia could’ve been pleasant
If only, I had sent
That one unsent message.