Dear Mom,
I hope you had a wonderful birthday. You were on my mind and in my heart all day. I wish I could have been there to celebrate with you.
At times I've tried to express how grateful I am for your involvement in my life, and usually I just end up crying. The reason I get so emotional is because I feel afraid, and then usually experience this progression of thoughts in my mind: "I am not scared of dying -- there is no fear in that," I think. "But I can't live without my mom," and then I realize how blessed I am to have you in my life, and I feel sorry for every day I took you for granted. Advice and friendship, support and comfort... overwhelming love and prayers. I simply need you. Thank you so much for everything.
I'm sorry this is not a happy "Happy Birthday" note, because that is what I at first intended it to be.
It's morbid to talk about death and dying on a birthday. But you really scared me when you collapsed last month, and we went to the hospital. I thought something bad was going to happen. Just writing about it makes my chest hurt, and my eyes watery.
As I realize how much you gave, how many years you spent, how many hours you devoted to raising your family and loving your husband and kids, I wish with all my heart that you could have a break. Sleeping in, breakfast in bed, chocolate milk and snickers, velour outfits and an Alaskan cruise. A miniature reward preview, of the glorious treasures God has stored for you in His beautiful heaven.
I just want to be like you. In so many ways, and some of them seemingly pointless. I'll never knowingly send an email with a misspelled word. My mom wouldn't like that. I always lick the brownie batter, pack far too much when I'm going on a trip, and buy the salad dressing that "looks the best." I've got a-ways to go, I know. But there's no harm in trying, right?
I love you, Mom. Miss you and can't wait to see you.
Love,
Carlyn
