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I, too lost my mom in August of 2002. That was the time when Chris and I started communicating. He was still very uncomfortable about the loss of his Mom, and we exchanged many emails on that topic. And you're right, it doesn't matter your age; I just turned 58 (argh!) and I miss Mom as if I were 4 or 5 at times.

A former FRiend sent me this a while back. e e cummings summarized it pretty well in this, I think:

You are tired,
(I think)
Of the always puzzle of living and doing;
And so am I.

You have played,
(I think)
And broke the toys you were fondest of,
And are a little tired now;
Tired of things that break, and--
Just tired.
So am I.

Regarding the discussion of losing your mother:

Today is the seventh anniversary of my mother's death from cancer. The things that happened right around the time of her death were amazing, proof in the physical, to me, of the existence of the hereafter (not that proof is needed, but it is interesting).

Just before she died, she kept writing the number "8" on a piece of paper (she couldn't talk). We later realized that if you flip it on its side, it's the symbol for infinity. She would also write notes about how "the taxi is coming for me."

I lived in Denver and she died in Chicago while I was there. My husband was away on business and we had a small baby (our first). Getting up several times a night, I did NOT set the alarm. AT 6:35 am, the alarm went off. I grumbled a bit and went to turn it off.

Nothing happened. I flipped the switches, played with the volume, but still, the music played. I finally unplugged it.

I later learned she died at 7:35 a.m. Chicago time.

Later that day, my father and sister were sitting in the hospital room next to her body. The door--one of those heavy hospital doors--was open. The windows were closed; there was no wind, there was no one around.

Suddenly the door closed, on its own, with no one pushing it.

Since then, I have felt her presence very strongly on occasion, during prayer or meditation.

So... even though TILH's family can no longer see or talk to him, he is around them, that much I know.

Additionally, I gave a eulogy for my mother and in it, I read a poem that I think is appropriate to post here:

John Donne (1572-1631)
Death, be not proud

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell;
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.

R.I.P., TILH.

This is horrible news and I pray the family finds comfort during this most difficult time. Also sorry to hear of the loss of your mother and hope each day gets a bit easier.