Mother's Day 2013

Dear Tash -

In a few hours, it will again be Mother's Day - the holiday I struggle with the most.  I cannot believe it will be my second Mother's Day without you.  How do I still call myself a mother when you are not here to call me Mommy? 

I wish I had some kind of answers - but, here we are, sixteen months later, and I still don't know what to do - where to turn - what to do with my life without you.  It feels wrong to even get out of bed on the day.  Others offer to visit - bring cards - someone even wanted to bring flowers by - I push them all away.  It feels like I am being disloyal to you, if I accept these offers.  You were always so jealous of the attention I gave to others - I wonder if you feel differently now. 

How many pot roast dinners did we share on Mother's Day?  After working at Bennigan's, I never liked to go out and eat on Mother's Day - the busiest restaurant day of the year.  I didn't even care that most of those days I ended up cooking part, most or all of my dinner.  I just wanted to be with you - and, honestly, that's all I want now.  I just want to spend time with you.  I think of all the missed opportunities - the times when I could have been with you - I missed out and now I live with the regret. 

Can I still ask for Mother's Day gifts, even with you gone?  Obviously, the best gift would be the gift of you returning to life, but, I know that's not possible.  That knowledge breaks my heart daily. But, there are a few things I would like to have:
- More signs from you
- To know you are at peace
- The ability to focus on your life instead of your death

More than anything, I would love to be able just to know you are at peace - to know that you are okay with me here, instead of with you - to know that you want me to go on - to know that you love me - and that you forgive me my shortcomings as your mother.  I imagine that if I could figure all this out, I could sleep without nightmares - sleep all night - and, make it through my days with a little more confidence - a little more vigor. 

I love you, Tash.  When I was young, I didn't have a lot of goals or a lot of faith in my ability to escape the lifestyle of my family.  Oh, I wanted so much more - but, I had no idea how to get it.  Then, you came along.  For the first time, I had more than "wants," I had dreams - goals - and, I would have moved heaven and earth to achieve them.  I wanted you to have everything I didn't have - especially the knowledge that you had a mother who loved you more than anything in the world.  I think I did that - I hope I did that.   I do know that I gave you a better life because you made me a better person - you made me work hard - dream big - to give you the life you deserved. 

So, here we are - you there without me - me here without you. You were my best friend - my memory-keeper - we were supposed to grow old together.  After all, we were only separated by fifteen years.  You promised to push my wheelchair.  I am missing so much without you here.  There is no compromise, though - no easy fix.  I hope you are faring better without me than I am without you.  I hope that as time goes on, I figure out what purpose there is to my life here without you - that these days become easier - that I am able to fill these "special" days with the happy memories we shared.

There is no replacement for your love - for your life - there is only the remnants of my heart - the rest is with you -

I love you more...MOM