Dear Mom,
I needed to reach out to you in any form possible. I talk to you every single day. I still call you EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. I go to your grave almost daily. I try to find you in my dreams. And I can't see you anywhere or find you. This is my last resort. You used to always love it when Brook and I updated our blogs. You loved seeing the new pictures go up. You also had no problem in calling me to critique what I said, how it offended you, made you mad, or to point out my spelling errors. I need you here because I have no one to do this now. You were my person who could say whatever they wanted to me, whether I agreed or not, and you could get away with it. Even though you became more than just my mom, my best friend, I still had the most amount of respect for you. I could never stay mad at you. Ever.
Mom I find myself struggling more and more everyday without you. It is becoming more real, and less like you're just gone on vacation or mad at me and we just haven't talked in a few days. This is real. This really happened. And I still just can't believe it. I want you to come back. Need is more accurate. I am only 29, Mom. I need you here with me. My babies need you. Brook needs you. Our family is falling apart. I am falling apart. My relationships with those I love is falling apart. I need you here to help me fix it and tell me what I'm doing wrong. I need you here to support me and have my back. I have no one now. I have more people reaching out to offer help than I know what to do with, but I still feel more alone and abandoned than I ever thought possible. I don't want help from anyone. I don't want to talk to anyone else. I want it from you. I need it from you. And I just can't get a grip on how to fix this.
I tried talking to someone at Pine Rest. However, that didn't end well. I walked out, more like stormed out, of the office after I told Jean to go "f*ck herself" when she told me to open up about my feelings. I know you would be proud of that ;). But honestly, she deserved it. Brook and I are barely surviving, Mom. Neither of us know how to help the other. We both feel helpless. We are helpless in helping each other, and helping ourselves. Our only solution is to have you. You were the glue in our family. And that role is irreplaceable.
Friday, Dennis, Aunt Joi, Joe and I went to pick out your headstone. You would be so proud of the sketching Brook drew. Dennis and I picked out the most beautiful piece of granite I have ever seen. It looks like it was made for your house with all of your decor. I hope you like it. We are trying to make sure every detail would make you proud and happy. We know not to make it showy, because you were NOT a showy person and never boasted about what you had. Don't worry, we'll make sure your headstone is beautiful, classy, elegant and within reason. All of which describes you perfectly.
Beau lost his 1st tooth. And I found myself calling you right away that morning to tell you. You didn't answer, of course, but I left you a voicemail so I hope you heard it. (Yes, I'm aware of how insane I sound). He really misses you. He is having less bad days though, which is good. He still sleeps with his Nana Book he made for you this summer with all pictures of you in it and drawings he's made of you. You were his rock, Nana. You spoiled him and loved him so much, just like you did all of the babies.
Can you see how much we all need you? Or can you only see the good in Heaven? Brook keeps telling me you can't see us when we're sad, because that would make you sad. And you aren't sad in Heaven, only happy. So I worry you hardly ever see me. I can count on one hand the number of times I have felt happy since June. I try. I am trying. But I am failing every day. I need a sign from you. I need something. Anything. I don't want to see a damn cardinal and be told it's you. I don't want anymore butterfly signs. I need something specific. When you "told me" to go look downstairs in my college tub for that book you gave me, THAT WAS A SIGN. When I lay away at 3:00 in the morning or wake up right before 3:00 in the morning, THAT IS A SIGN. Please, give me one. I need to feel you.
Dennis is really struggling too, Mom. He misses you so much. He keeps telling me how he needs to get on top of his smoking and drinking this fall, but he is just trying to survive too. Remember how you "told me" awhile back in my dream to go get special things at the house because the time was coming? I did. Or I tried at least. But everything in that house is special. It is your dream house. The house you built and designed just for you. Every inch of that house reminds me of you. But your smell has faded. The shades are always down. The light isn't as bright anymore, and of course the decorations aren't up to your liking. But we are doing a good job of keeping your sink clean. That would make you proud I hope :)
Last night was my latest panic attack. It was real. I could feel you, except it wasn't you with me. It was like I was you. I couldn't breathe, my side cramped, I kneeled over, and just shook. My mind took me to that horrible morning in June. I could see you laying on the floor. I could see the panic in your eyes and feel how scared you were. I felt it all. As if I was you or right there with you. This all happened in a 5-6 minute time frame. Which is also the time-frame it happened for you. Why did this happen? I really thought Joe was about to rush me to the ER. It was the scariest feeling I have had in quite awhile. When I asked to feel you, that is NOT what I meant. All this time I had been convincing myself that you didn't suffer or even know you were dying. But last night, you told me otherwise. I felt it all. And that makes me sick to even think of you suffering or being scared. Breaks my heart quite frankly.
The holidays are almost here. And they are going to be horrible. You were the best at decorating for the holidays. You were the best at spoiling us at the holidays. You were the best at baking and cooking. Holidays won't be the same now. And they never will be. You should be here. You should be here to watch the kids' Christmas program at church and see Beau and Banx argue on stage. You should be here to take my students Christmas shopping with me. You should be here to read Bible stories to the kids on Christmas. You should be here. And it's just not fair.
I don't think I will ever understand why this happened to you, to me, to our family. You should not have been the one to go. It wasn't supposed to be you. You know that. Brook knows that. I know that. It wasn't your time. I didn't even get a goodbye. I didn't get a chance to tell you how much I love you. How beautiful I think you are. How smart and talented you are. How I strive to be just like you and how proud you make me as your daughter. I didn't get the chance to hold your hand one last time or hug you. I didn't get to feel you or take the time to remember how I felt in your arms when you held me or hugged me. And now I can't remember any of that. I already can't remember your smell. I'm forgetting what your hands felt like. I'm forgetting your touch. And if it weren't for your voicemail, I worry I'd be forgetting your voice. All of which I am told will come back to me in time. I'm just in shock still. But it has been 4 months. 4 long miserable months. 4 months of pain and agony. And Mom, it's not getting any easier. It's getting harder. Daily.
Mom, please come to me tonight in my dreams. Let me know you are okay. Let me know you are in Heaven. That it is for real. That we are living our lives devoted to Christ and it's not all for nothing. I need you to reassure me. Because I feel betrayed by God. I'm trying to live my life for Him, and he repays me by taking you from me. I know that is incredibly selfish for continually saying "me, me , me". But it's how I feel. I can't even think past "me" right now. I still can't even wrap my mind around it.
Please know I love you. I love you more than life itself and to Heaven and back times infinity.
Love,
P
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