Seasons in the Sun

I was proofreading Leisure time. The song was a most familiar one - Seasons in the Sun. I didn't realize I was on the verge of tears until my eyes felt uncomfortable. I went to the lavatory and shut myself in when I found that I couldn't hold back tears.
This was the first time since the first couple of months. This song, or the lyrics of this song, brought it all back. "It's hard to die / When all the birds are singing in the sky / Now that the spring is in the air." To die in springtime. It must be desperate.

No, it is desperate. To have no mom to call Mom; to buy gifts for someone else; to "socialize" with supposed-to-be family; to have no place to call home though Father has bought a house. I've lost any interest in bearing children because the one who wanted to take care of them for me is gone. And have Father and we drifted apart? I dare not imagine how it would be when he gets older.

But this afternoon, I was desperate for Mom only. How could I not believe in transmigration? There would be no hope or comfort if I didn't.