Dear Mom. A letter to you on your birthday.

Dear Mom,A year ago today, on your birthday, was the last day I saw you. And this is the last picture I took of you- on Christmas. (Thank you for always being willing to be goofy so others would have fun and laugh). I came over with your favorite cake- tiramisu, and a little gift. You reminded me that the first time you had tiramisu was at my sorority house in college. I will always remember with a grateful heart, the times you would come visit me at Hillsdale. That first year was hard and I probably cried to you many times over the phone, begging you to let me come back home. Your mother's heart was strong and encouraged me to give it more time. I know selfishly, you probably wanted me home, too. But you always chose the better thing for me. And, you were right - it was a good thing for me to stay there.Last year, along with a little piece of cake for you and one for me, I gave you a rosary my that friend in Uganda made for you out of pink paper beads. You still weren't feeling good and I was worried. I begged to take you to the doctor but you didn't want to go. You never wanted to be a 'burden' and although I appreciated that, it also frustrated me sometimes because I loved you so much and wanted to help. Some days I regret that I didn't force you to the hospital. I wish I would have done something more. But I know in my heart that it wouldn't have changed things in the end. God knew your day- even if I would disagree with that for the rest of my life.I've been thinking of you so much this week. I waiver between wanting to think about you and miss you and feel it all. And wanting to just go about my day as if it were another day - so I don't have to be sad. I still have messages from you on my phone that I can't bare to listen to, yet. I know one day I will need to. For now, I still remember your voice like I could hear you right now. And hearing it on my phone might just crush me today.If I could see you today I would tell you how beautiful you are. Yes, time and loss and grief had changed you, worn you down in ways you wish you could reverse. But you are beautiful. You always have been and everyone knew it. Everyone but you.If I could see you today, I would hug you for a long time and tell you how much I've appreciated your love for me and your endless support. You believed in me many times before I would ever believe in myself. Your joy and excitement for me was big and it blessed me - I just wish I would have told you 100 more times. And then 100 more because 100 is not enough.I wish I would have cried more in front of you in the last few years. You deserved to see my weakness and continue to be a mother to me -but often, I was trying too hard to be the strong one. And now, it feels so hard to live without you and not regret things I wish I would have done or said. But I know you- and you would never want that for me. You wanted more than anything for my happiness- the beautiful gift of a goodmother to her child.I made it through the holidays ok. I was dreading Thanksgiving and Christmas because I didn't want to do it without you. You always made the holidays so special. We laughed about your boxes in the basement - the many boxes full of holiday decorations and more Santas than anyone in the world. I missed that this year. I missed you. We missed you. But we all "made it through" the holidays. There were moments of sadness and I lit a candle for you at the dinner table. Even as I write this, I still feel like it's all a really bad dream. Just a year-long terrible dream of a world without you in it. Maybe that's how we get through grief-our minds trick us into believing it's not really real. After "making it through" the big holidays, I then dreaded this day and the days that follow. I wasn't sure how I'd be doing on your birthday and the weekend after which marks one year since you died. I still don't know how I'm doing. I'm just living and trying to be ok. And as I've talked with so many people including Dad and your best friend, grief comes at odd times. So it comes in a parking lot when I'm about to get groceries the day before your birthday. That wave (I tend to call it a rogue one) hits and I'm back to missing you with tears and my heart breaking. And grief proves again, it's unpredictable nature. And God proves, again, that He's with me through it all. I often listen to my music in my car and it's set to "all songs" so it just plays random ones whenever. At the right moment in the grocery store parking lot, this song that has reminded me of you came on saying; "Don't cry hold your head up high, she would want you to. She would want you to."I know.But it's hard.My dear friend sent me a text this week and shared a dream she had of my you. She said you were telling her to "be strong". And she thought that message might be for me, too.I also had another dear friend share a vision she had that still brings me so much joy and comfort. She saw you riding on a horse with Jesus - smiling and waving- with such joy on your face, and I think, freedom in your heart.So I want to honor you today, Mom. Your beauty. Your outward beauty, yes, but more importantly the inward beauty of your heart. And the amazing shine of your spirit. The kind of spirit who welcomed everyone with a huge smile and made those you encountered feel truly loved. I miss that so much about you. And I make it my goal to carry that heart and spirit wherever I go. I thank you for that.And one more thing, I have hope again. It took many months. And for most of those days and weeks, I didn't think hope would be possible for me again. I didn't think JOY would be possible. But I know that would hurt your heart if you knew that. Through those months and this whole year, my prayer has been simple:"God, be near." I'm so grateful He has done that for me. And I'm so thankful for the millions of ways you loved me for the 33.5 years I got to be with you. Thank you for loving me in a way in which losing you crushed my heart... but also in the way that enabled me to keep going without you. You were a true gift - a beautiful representation of a mother. Not perfect of course, and I'm sorry for the ways I wished you were. And I thank you for the ways you allowed me to be imperfect. Thank you. I love you so much and miss you every day. I know life will never be the same without you, but I carry you in my heart. And I can't wait to see you again.Love,Your Daughter.