It’s been one month. I still can’t believe you’re gone. I miss you so much, Mom. So very much.
I wish I could have one more conversation with you. There are so many things I didn’t ask you – that I wanted to ask you – things about my childhood that I don’t remember that I know you, being Mom, would remember. I wish I had asked you more about your life as a kid and as a young adult so I could have those stories of you to share with your grandkids and your great grandchildren.
I wish I could feel your arms around me one more time, hugging me. The warmth of a mom’s hug is such a feeling of comfort and security. I long for that – just one more time.
Did you hear me tell you on one of your last days that you were the best mom a girl could ask for? You were sleeping, but somehow I feel certain you heard me. I know you heard me tell you how much I loved you and how lucky I was to have you as my mom. You really are the best mom a girl could have.
Did I tell you how much I cherished our conversations over these past 4 years? I don’t think I did. But, I loved how we would sit at the kitchen table after dinner and chat. Dad would go to the living room to read or watch tv, but you and I would linger at the table, talking about anything and everything. Sometimes it was a serious discussion about something going on in the world. Sometimes we simply gossiped about the neighbors. Sometimes we talked about the family. And sometimes, I rambled on about what was going on in my life and my hopes and dreams for my future. I loved these moments. These are the times I cherish the most of our last years together – and they are the moments I miss the most now that you are gone.
You were always such a good listener, Mom. I could always come to you to talk about my life – and I could always count on you to listen. You didn’t always give me the answers I longed for, but you always told me I would figure things out. And, as usual, you were right. You trusted me because you raised me to be an independent person, but mostly you trusted me because you raised me to be a good person. I hope you are proud of me, Mom. I try every day to be a good person – to make you proud.
Even though I miss you every day, I know you are okay. That was you last week giving me a sign that you are all right, wasn’t it? I was out running on a beautiful spring day, and I was talking to you. I told you I missed you and that I loved you. Then I said, “I hope you are okay, Mom.” At that moment a little, pale yellow (your favorite color) butterfly floated across the trail right in front of me. That was you, wasn’t it, telling me that you are indeed all right. I thought so.
I know in time, the pain I feel, the sadness I feel, will lessen. But, it will never completely be gone. How can it be? You are my mom. You will always be my mom – my little mama. I’ll always love you and I will always miss you…