I wish I had more memories, more photos, more videos. I wish I could have a million voice notes from you, or if I could, I wish I could have just one last phone call with you. What was my last phone call with you, ma? Was I calling you to remind you that my breakfast cereals were running out, or was it to ask your whereabouts? How did I greet you on the phone? Was I always in a rush to end the call?

Mama. 4 years today, and still no one told me what to do with your number in my phone. No one told me what to do with your clothes, your favourite pillow, your favourite scarves. It drives me crazy not being able to walk into your room with the familiar baby powder scent, to watch you as you try to multitask your way on the gym ball with a book in your hand. I wish I had more time, more maturity to figure out the traits that I got from you.

How am I like you mama? What are the things that I do everyday that could be attributed to you? Did you write down your thoughts, did you hide your anger inside you, like me? How were you like in school?  Did you crush on many guys? Did you entertain gossip, did you bother with trends? What irritated you, what broke your heart?

I miss you more than anything, and I wish your name wasn't such a taboo word now. I wish people could bring you up more easily, at the coffee table, at anywhere. I wish they could tell me what you were doing when you were 17. Were you as confused, scared, excited? What were your plans, or were you still trying to figure things out?

I wish. that I could be able to whatsapp you right now. Ask "mom, are you still awake?". Be able to find out what your display picture would be. Wonder how it would be watching you take your first selfie.

I think about you everyday, about not being able to help me pick my newborns' names, not being able to watch me graduate, watch me try to fight my way to get the job I want. It still breaks me.