When you see someone else wishing their mom a happy birthday or saying how thankful they are for them you automatically skip over it because you can't stand the idea that other people still have moms in their lives when you don't.
When someone complains about their mom and the awful things she has done, you can't help but think at least you have a mom to complain about.
Every once in a while, the thought crosses your mind that you wonder how life would be different if she was still here. What news would you have called her to tell? What things would she be doing now?
With the holidays and her birthday coming up, it feels weird not to have her included in your plans and only have one Christmas with your family to plan.
When you hear of someone's grandparent passing away and you don't feel as much sympathy as you should because people dying at 80 or 90 years old is not as gut wrenching as a death at 49.
That ever aching hole that you feel and you can't seem to fill it.
Going to the grocery store and wanting to make gravy for Thanksgiving, wishing that you could ask her exactly what she did to make gravy as a kid taste so good.
Having one thing from your 101 list that was set aside for her and knowing that you can't buy her those dang flowers and you wish you would have done it sooner. Bringing flowers to a grave does not have that same happy feeling.
When your usual family of five suddenly feels tiny because you are now four. Being just one number less suddenly feels like a huge difference.
Having the "gift giving" parent no longer able to buy those gifts and the need for a Christmas or Birthday list suddenly seems unnecessary.
Reading a book that you found at her house that was stuffed with airplane tickets that she used to go skiing with her dad. Wishing that the skiing trip you had talked about could still be a possibility.
Still remembering the feeling of her hug and how tiny she always felt. Wishing you could feel that just one more time.