Dear Mom
Thursday, May 31, 2018
Dear Mom,
Today marks 11 years since I last saw your face. 11 years since I screamed "I love you" over and over in desperation and despair, knowing that very soon I wouldn't have you anymore. Screaming because I knew that my safe place was about to be gone.
11 years ago, I wasn't thinking about high school. Or college. Or today. Today I wonder what it would have been. What it could have been. Would we have fought or argued when I was a teenager? Would I have gone through a period of hating you or being embarrassed of you the way some girls do? Would I have called you in college to vent about professors or cry about scary performances or complain about hard assignments?
I wonder what our relationship would be like today. Would you still be my best friend? Would I want to call you every day? What would we talk about? What would you say to me when I struggle with anxiety and depression? Would you come to my apartment for movie nights?
God has put some pretty amazing people in my life to fill in some of the gaps. Dad still works so hard to provide for Chandler and all of his girls. Camille, Annie, and Gidge are my best friends. Can you believe that? So many friends have stepped in for you and been "mom" for me, often without even knowing it.
I didn't think it was possible, but life went on. Life without you has become normal. And God has shown up in big ways even when I have had so little faith. He taught me that I needed to put my trust in Him, not in you. You are my mom, but He is my Savior.
Losing you changed my life, but it doesn't CONSUME my life anymore. I'm starting to forget what your voice sounds like and that terrifies me. I don't think about you every second of every day anymore and part of me feels guilty about that. I know that you would be happy for me. Your selfless heart would be elated that I am finding joy again.
But Mommy, I miss you. Tomorrow. June 1, 2018 marks 11 years since Jesus met you with arms wide open and said, "well done, my good and faithful servant." So, today and tomorrow I will rejoice with you because you are healed. But I will allow myself to cry, and think, and wish, and wonder, and miss you. Because 11 years is a long time to be without a mom.
I love you,
Mags
