Shiny

Dear Mom,

An old photograph, black and white

You and Dad are there, younger perhaps than I
So happy and radiant; joys shines from you

Sparkles in your very eyes.

And Dad. He smirks, knowing he’s lucky

Knowing that you love him

I wish I could see that radiance once more

To hear the laugh that the man in that photo relishes

I wish I could see him that happy again, too

But when he smiles, it is but shadow

A shade of its former glory

Because your eyes will never shine again

You both look so...ablaze with life

Frozen in time, untouched by the troubles ahead

Through it all, you held close

You two kept us all afloat

And now you’re gone

And Dad doesn’t smile right

And I’m sinking, more some days than others

I know I’ll get through, I have to

And Dad will be okay, even if he’s not sure himself

And I know without a doubt

That the light that shone from your eyes was brilliant

And the world became less beautiful when they went dark

Dear Mom,

The lilacs are blooming now. I remember how much you loved them, splashes of purple, with an intoxicating smell that no perfume or candle could quite capture to your liking. I haven't been by to see your bush. It's still hard to go there. I know I should check in on Dad more, Lord knows Mel isn't helpful at all. But your stuff is still everywhere like they're just expecting you to come walking in after work. It's all covered in 5 months of dust, right where you left it. It breaks my heart.

I never realized just how much you held everyone together. Dad still hasn't signed up for Medicare supplement insurance, and he's been skipping checking his sugars to save money on strips. Mel's foot still hasn't healed. Jerri feels abandoned by the both of them. I have no idea what is going on with Ben. I'm trying to step in a bit and help keep people together, but I still haven't figured out how you did it all.

My first year of nursing school is over tomorrow. If I've calculated my grades properly, I've passed everything. It was dicey there for a while, in a couple of classes, and boy, would it have been nice to talk to you about it. I think you held ME together more than I realized, because without you to talk to, I panic. All. The. Time. You believed in me without question, and now all I have are doubts and anxiety. You were my backbone. It's so hard to stand up without you. I lean on Steve a lot, but I think I'm slowly learning to stand on my own.

For now, I will smell the snip of lilacs I have sitting to my left. I will think of you and imagine you sitting here holding my hand, telling me I can do it. I will remember your love and your support, and I will move forward. I will strive to make you proud.

Love,
Mandy

P.S. Happy Mother's Day. You always said it wasn't fun without your mom, and I totally get it now. I hope you, Aunt Wanda and Grandma Clara are celebrating together this year. I love you all. <3

Dear Mom,

I don't feel good. My head is all stuffed and my throat aches. I woke up with no voice. But what hurts worst is your absence. I miss the comfort in your voice as you spoke with me. Even though you said no more than, "I hope you feel better, baby," your words soothed me like a balm.

More than anything right now, I miss your voice. That tangible expression of your love that I could hear anytime I needed it. All I need is a few of your kind, loving words, and I know I'd feel much better.

I know this is brief and I'm sorry. But I need to go lie down now. I love you and I miss you, Momma.

Love,
Mandy

Dear Mom,

Today I am 30. I didn't have class today, so I slept in until 12:30. It is 1:30 now, and Steve is still in bed. I am having breakfast of honey mustard and onion pretzels (they make me think of you) and Dr. Thunder. I may get my picture taken later, but probably not. I may go to Shady Maple for dinner, but I'm not sure. I have looked forward to this day for more than a decade and now that it is here, I'm like a dog that finally caught a car. I have no idea what to do with it.

Besides, it's just another day since you left. I wanted to spend it with you, Momma. I wanted you to cook me dinner like always (this year I want Chicken Paprika) and make me a birthday cake (Texas Cake, like always) and sing to me with your beautiful voice. God, I wish I could hear you sing again, even just "Happy Birthday".

How can I celebrate? How can I find the Happy in my Birthday? I have almost 40 birthday greetings on Facebook so far today, and I expect a handful more before the day is out. Jerri will call, and I'll stop by to visit with Dad and Mel and Julie. Everyone wants me to have a happy day and I'm trying, I really am, but it's so hard.

I have started therapy again, and I like my therapist. She's older and tattooed and she seems sassy. You'd like her, too. She lost her mom a few years ago, so she really knows where I'm coming from, which is helpful. Maybe if I can cry out all of my sadness and anger and disappointment I can find my joy again. Maybe if I go to the bottom of my grief, I can push off of it and find the surface. Maybe then I can stop drowning in it. All I know is that you should be here, and you aren't and I hurt now.

Happy Birthday to me. Thank you for giving me the world. It was and is the best gift ever. I'm here, and that's enough for now.

Love,
Mandy

Dear Mom,

It has been almost two months since you passed away. It's weird because sometimes it feels like it's been forever, and it's getting harder to remember your face or your voice. But then sometimes, I go to visit with Dad, and I swear I'm going to see you sitting in the recliner, your face lighting up, greeting me with a hug and a kiss and a "Hey Sugarplum!" I don't know which is worse. The forgetting or the remembering.

I miss you like crazy. It feels like someone took away a piece of my lung-life goes on, but it's a little harder to breathe now. Since I'm having some trouble coping, and I haven't started with my new therapist yet, I'm taking the advice of Hudson Leick (crazy right?) and telling you directly how much I need you.

Mom, you were my best friend. You were my cheerleader, my guide and my inspiration. You were the first person I went to for advice, even when I didn't really need it because it gave me an excuse to talk to you. I would kill to hear your voice just one more time. I had it, you know. One word on voicemail. You said "hello" then hung up. It was the most precious word ever, but I forgot to log it and save it again, and it is gone now. I am losing you piece by piece, day by day.

I keep a bottle of your perfume near me in the house, because it keeps you next to me. It helps me remember. But even that won't help in time. I don't want to forget, but I will. I'll forget the precise shade of your silver-blonde hair. The placement of the mole on your nose. The feel of your calloused, gentle hands around mine as you helped me through some crisis or other.

I wish you could help me through this crisis. I wish you could wrap your arms around me and tell me everything is okay. I wish I could hear you tell me you love me one more time. Just once, so I can remember it perfectly and never forget the beauty in those words and the love in your voice.

You would have been proud of me today though. There was an issue with school which could have ruined everything, but I emailed the right people, and I said the right things, and everything is okay now. I handled it, all by myself. You know I'm not good at that, but I did it anyway. I wish you could have been here to celebrate with me.

I'm going to go now, Mom. Stay close by my though, okay? You're still my best friend, my guide and my inspiration. I still need you. I love you, Momma.

Love,
Mandy