A letter to my Mom

It’s coming up on a year Mom. A year ago that I lost you. I had so much to say to you still, and I still do. So here’s my letter to you.

Dear Mom,

I know you may not see this, but I hope that you can feel my love, wherever you are. Yesterday was our anniversary. Valentine's Day. The day we always celebrated together as the day you became my Mom. Yes, I called you Gram, but you were my mother, my father, my protector, and my idol. Every holiday is a tribute to you. Some kind of small remembrance of everything we did together.

I am now working full time. Trying to remember your courage as you worked to support a child that you didn’t have to. You always loved helping people, and I have found the same kind of love. I help people get prescriptions they need. Specialty medication so a lot of the medications I handle are for patients with life threatening disorders or transplant patients and even things like rheumatological disorders. I hope I’m making you proud.

There’s so much that I never got to share with you, or if I did, you didn’t remember because your memory wasn’t good. I know you remember my son Quin. He’ll be 5 this year, and he is the spitting image of me. I know I told you about Levi, even though you may not remember. I gave him your middle name. He turned one a few days before you passed, so he’ll be two this year and he has the sweetest smile. Parenting is hard, but I try to remember all the times I gave you a rough time and how you handled it. You always accepted me, always loved me. Even when I was having a trauma flashback and became violent, you were always there for me.

I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the extent of the trauma I experienced before I became yours. By the time I did, It was too late. I’m sorry I never opened up about the man that you loved, and how he abused me too. I’m sorry that I never saw your value until I left home and started a life of my own. I’m sorry I didn’t visit more often or call as much as I should have.

Even now, I still hear you in my head, telling me the story of how you first met me and fell in love with a little multiracial girl with the two curliest pigtails and the prettiest brown eyes you ever saw. How from that day on, you loved and cherished me with all your heart. You were my hero. You always will be too. You saved me, and I hope in the end, I was able to give you some kind of happiness.

I miss you Mom. I miss baking cakes on your birthday. I miss Easter Sundays and the pretty dresses. I miss the way you always believed me and never not once doubted me. I miss the way you accepted me for everything that I am and pushed me to be the best person I could be, and to also be the truest person to myself. I know it’s too late to say some things to you, but I hope that wherever you are, you feel my love, and know that you’ll never be forgotten. I will tell my children the stories, and their children and hope that they pass on your memory. The memory of the angel who saved me.