Dear Mommy

I love you and I've missed you everyday since you left me. I realize now that there are still so many lessons I had left to learn from you. So many moments of value. Even now I still find myself needing to seek your advice or wanting to run something by you before I act. When I moved into my new apartment I still wanted you to see it. I find it so odd that you're not here to cover me under the cloak of your love and understanding. I told the folks at your funeral that you were the perfect mother for me and that's true. You understood the person I was from the moment I was born. You truly knew that your son and I were two disparate personalities and parented us appropriately, and that's something I took for granted. I thought everyone had a parent like that. But you were unique in that you parented with common sense and love and that's missing in parenting today. Everyone wants to be their child's friend. But our friendship was the result of you being my mother FIRST.

You were the best and the things you taught me are innumberable. But you also underestimated your worth to those around you which is something you passed along to both your children. I found myself wishing you could see all the people who turned out for your wake and funeral. That you could have felt all that love, but then again if you were there, none of that would have been necessary. You have been so loved and "L" and I still love you. I've always been proud to be your daughter and really wished with all my heart that I could be half the woman you were. In your youth, you lived your life your way and didn't let fear decide things for you as I have. I always loved that about you and wish I'd had more of that. I loved the fight in you. That's one thing that was always said about you...you'd never go down without a fight. Even in the end. You said to me that you didn't want anyone thinking you were a punk because you couldn't do anymore chemo, and I told you then I would never let anyone think that about you. And I never will. You were so brave in those final months, weeks, and days.

The night before you left was like any other night. I sat with you and watched you sleep for awhile and I started to leave around 11pm. I lotioned your hands, brushed your soft white hair, and kissed your forehead. Your eyes fluttered and then opened, and I said, "I'm leaving now Mom. I'll see you tomorrow," and you said, "Ok." Then I stroked your cheek and said, "I love you," and you closed your eyes and softly uttered, "I love you too." And those were the last words you ever spoke to me. And I'm so glad for that. I wonder if you heard me at all the next day and night as your body made its transition to the other side. Did you feel me crawl in the bed next to you and rest my head on your chest? Did you feel my lips touch your forehead, did you hear me tell you over and over again how much I love you and how much I need you? Could you feel my hand in yours as you drifted out of my world and into God's eternal embrace? Were you ok, were you calm as you left? I just wanted to make your journey as peaceful and fearless as I could for you. Did it work? As I remember your final moments this last day of your life, I hope wherever you are, that you can feel my love, our love, and know that I will never get over your loss. I hope to have other love and other joys in my life, but you are the love of my life. And if I failed to tell you that in life, I hope you know it and can feel it now. Mommy, my one true love...I miss you. Forever.