In some moments, it feels like you’ve been absent far longer than the 11 years I’ve navigated life without you. Other times, the memory of that day when the nurse in her blue scrubs whispered the words that still echo in my mind, “She’s gone,” feels like it was just yesterday. Your departure left a void, and with it, all the things I never managed to communicate to you.
I know you often perceived me as a daddy’s girl, but as I transitioned into high school, that perception shifted. It was a subtle change, one I never acknowledged, and unfortunately, you didn’t notice it either. You served as my anchor during those four years, and the line between mother and friend blurred. I never articulated it to you, but you were not just my mother; you were my closest confidante. While friends like Sophie and Clara were my partners in mischief, it was always you with whom I shared the most intimate moments. You were the one I went dress shopping with, the one I skipped class alongside, the one with whom I crafted spirit wear. Nobody can fill the space you left behind, and I realize now no one ever will.
Do you recall the times in middle school when I yearned to stay over at friends’ houses? You assumed it was because I was embarrassed about our home or, worse, ashamed of you because of your illness. I insisted otherwise, but I never truly conveyed how mistaken you were. I could never feel shame towards you. Even during your struggles, you embodied resilience, living with grace amid pain and radiating love despite adversity. I admired you immensely, and I wish I had found the words to express that.
Your sacrifices didn’t go unnoticed, even if I failed to mention them. You wore well-worn clothes so I could have something new, and you shared spare change to ensure I could enjoy outings with friends. You took me to games and shopping trips, even when all you desired was rest. Each day, you gave me everything you had. I regret not voicing my gratitude, but I whisper my thanks when I visit your resting place.
To me, you were always paramount, Mom. You were the central figure in my life, even if your humility prevented you from seeing it. At 18, I wasn’t open about my feelings, but today, I find myself longing for those heart-to-heart conversations. In the still of the night, when grief washes over me, I often find myself speaking to you, believing that maybe, just maybe, you can hear me.
You embodied everything pure and good—love, compassion, forgiveness, and even the comfort of Sunday morning breakfasts. You were the answer to every doubt I held and the laughter that comforted me during tears. The warm treats and gentle encouragement you offered created a sense of safety and home that I cherished. And yet, I never told you.
Now that you rest beyond my reach, I strive to honor your legacy in my own life. I aim to embody the love you shared with everyone I encounter. I will push through my struggles and strive to be the nurturing, compassionate woman you raised me to be. While I recognize the challenge of stepping into your shoes, I am determined to carry your spirit forward.
In conclusion, the journey of expressing our feelings often remains incomplete, especially with those we hold dear. While I can no longer share these sentiments with you directly, I carry your lessons with me, determined to spread your love and kindness in a world that could always use more of it.
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