Dear Tash, As always, I am really missing you tonight. After six months without you, I still have the same questions I had the night you left me. Most of them start with the same word: "Why?" - Why did you leave me? - Why did you have to go through everything you went through? - Why wasn't I a better mother? - Why didn't I call you that day? - Why didn't I know the truth about all you were going through? - Why did you go to the hospital January 1? - Why didn't you fight harder? I miss you so much - I just cannot believe how much time has passed since you died. I cannot believe that I continue to wake up - to breathe - without you here. A parent should never outlive her child. I, especially, should not be here without you. You were my best friend - my everything. It is only through your birth that my life began to have meaning. I cannot even begin to list the things I miss about you. I wanted to write you a letter, telling you all that I missed about you, but, no matter how much I tried, I just couldn't get the list together. Mostly, I miss just knowing you are here. I know it would shock you, but, I really miss your phone calls. As much as I hate talking on the phone, I regret every minute I rushed you off the phone and every call I missed. I should have listened better - taken it all in - and enjoyed that time together. Even when you called me eight times a day, I should have been happier to hear the ring of the phone. The silence of that ringer now breaks my heart - I would give anything for one more call. Although, we both know, it was only a couple of weeks ago when I received such a call - but, I'm not ready to share that with the world just yet. I miss the sound of your voice - talking - giggling - even crying. I find myself listening for it - still expecting to hear it. I call your phone and wait for your voice mail. When it finally picks up, my heart skips a beat when I hear your voice - it's almost like having a little piece of you back - but, then my heart realizes it is not to be. It is just the recording of your sweet voice - making a promise to call me back - a promise you will never be able to keep. I miss your face - every pore - every freckle - even your little chicken pox scar. Those beautiful brown eyes with the little green specks - so expressive - no matter what you were feeling, you could never hide it - even if you tried - not if I could see your eyes. You know those cheeks you hated? I miss them - oh my gosh, how I miss them! Your little nose - so much like mine - it was perfect - no one else can carry that little perky nose - the one that matched your personality. And, that mouth - all that mouth on that little body. What I wouldn't give for the opportunity to run my finger across those lips once more - one more kiss - just one more...but, we all know it's not to be. Even through two bouts of braces, you still had that little space between your teeth. But, what a smile you had - it lit up your whole face - and my world. Oh, Tash, there are so many things I miss - this short list doesn't even begin to start the list. I miss so many things - I always wonder if you really knew how loved you were - how loved you are. I know I was hard on you last year, pushing you toward that independence you needed - but, I didn't want to push you away. I wanted you to be strong - as you were closer to graduating, gaining a stronger hold on independence. I was so proud of you - watching you get stronger - watching you get your shit together. You were almost there - and, now you are gone - and I just feel like instead of pushing you toward Independence, I should have been holding you close - relishing in every minute we had together. I never thought that, in the end, you would lay down, close your eyes, and leave me. I thought this was our year - a year to celebrate - your independence - your graduation - a new job - possibly, a new kidney. Instead, I'm left here alone, asking all the questions that I have no answers for. Tash, I love you - I'm trying to learn to do this without you - I would say I am failing miserably - I think you might have taken everything good with you when you left. I miss you - and, I'm still not sure what you would want me to do - 8 more days - I need some answers. MOM