Dear Mom – 7 Years

Dear Mom:

Wow, has it really been 7-years since you’ve been gone?  Although it feels like a lifetime since you’ve passed, it also feels like just yesterday on some days. 

Some years are harder on me than others mama.  This year happens to be one of those years.  I’ve been in a serious funk now for over a month now.  Seven years = seven roses.  This year I am floating pink ones.  I’m hoping after I go to the beach today for your memorial, after purging all this pent-up grief that I’ll come out of it again.  I know I will…eventually…I already am.   I think my yearly remembrance ritual will bring closure for this year.  At the very least I hope so.

Mama, I so wish you had met Brian before you passed.  I drive by your old place sometimes and the guilt hurts, but the thing I most wish is that you had met Brian.  Gahd, you would have loved him so.  I hope you’re up there and see him with me.  I don’t know mama, I don’t know why I was so lucky to meet him and not end up like you in an abusive relationship.  Lord knows the statistics said I should have followed you.  I guess you taught me something, by your pain and suffering I learned what a good man was.  He would have made a fantastic Dad mom.

I can’t comment on Tommy.  I’m sure you know we don’t talk.  I did see Thomas a little while ago.  It hurt really bad…my saving grace was him not asking me why he doesn’t see me anymore.  I couldn’t have looked at his little face and told him what an asshole his father was.  I would have rather cut my own tongue out than say that to him.  But, for all his faults and for all his wickedness, he’s a far better father than our own was.  You should take some credit for that I guess.

I haven’t seen Dad in over a year again.  As hard as I tried Mom, it’s obvious he cares nothing for me really and I am done trying to ingratiate myself into his life in an effort to have some kind of relationship with the man who sired me.  I hope you were busy the day he talked of never wanting to be a father and husband.  I hope you didn’t have to hear that, wherever you are. 

That’s it Mom.  All I have to say this year.  I hope you’re up there, looking down and I hope, Mom, for once, you’re proud of the woman I have become and have yet to become.  I think you know all my good deeds are done in your name.

Friends of mine went to Niagara this year mom and floated a flower for me in your memory.  I hope you felt that.  I hope, hope so much, that you’re finally at peace and happy Mom.  If you couldn’t have it in life, I sure hope you got it in death.

I love you, I miss you, I have not and will not forget.  I’ll continue to do all I can to honor your memory and make you proud of me.

How much mom?  How much do I love you — as you loved to say, "A bushel and a peck and a hug around your neck — that’s how much I love you."

Love,
Tish