Mom I can finally write you a letter…

I have missed you a lot lately and it has been a while since I was in that white wash room. August 25 will be 2 years. Sometimes it doesn’t seem like that long other times it feels like you were just a figment of my imagination. Someone I made up so I would have someone to talk to, someone who annoyed me, but I loved.

I always wonder what you would say about certain things and I often want your opinion. I never realized how much I would miss talking to you because I can’t talk to dad like I could you. It is so lonely sometimes. I understand what you ment now about being stuck alone in this house. Cory cared but never knew what to say he always thought you hated him. I had a dream about you and with out remembering I woke up and ran into your room only to find an empty bed. Reality set in when I called your name and there was no response. I hold on to your memory and embrace it because no one will ever take that away. I want you to know no one will replace you.

This is the first time I could write you a letter without crying. But if you knew me now you would not know the daughter you used to know. I am not the weak person you used to know. I am so strong now mom, I can do things on my own. I started college on my own. I didn’t have any help at all. I paid for it by working hard at my job.

Watching you on dialysis, hooked up to breathing machines, and 12 different bags was not fun. You woke up one day and tried to smile at me. I hoped you would see the pictures I drew for you, but you didn’t. You don’t know how hard it was to watch you motionless in a coma for almost a month. I don’t know what it was like for you either though. I am sure you argued with god because you liked to argue, but you knew you were sick. The nurse said you came back that one day to say goodbye and I believe it was true.

I take care of the house now like you used to. I still can’t make Chicken & dumplings like you did I guess I will figure it out with time. I have come to find out you were right like about everything. I always said it would never happen, but it did. You told me I wouldn’t be friends with all my childhood friends and I’m not. Maryanne screwed me over just like you told me she would. Michelle the same thing. I always told you you were wrong, but I never could grasp reality.

I always told you I never wanted to be like you. I never knew how mean it was. I hated history, I hated writing, but now I love both. I guess I can write somewhat decent. I have anxiety like you had I just hope that I don’t get Lupus like you did. I saw you suffer and I don’t want to suffer like that. My hair is dark like yours because of the Native American heritage. I am starting to look like you, but you were beautiful even after I buzzed off all of your hair, and even with the Lupus.

I am sorry I never did the mother and daughter activity with you I regret it. I still held hope when you were in a coma. I know you could hear us.

I remember the trip to the hospital you squeezed my hand so tightly and looked at me with sad eyes. I told you you would be ok. I didn’t know that wasn’t true. You knew that they would do something wrong you just never wanted me to know. Before you went into E.R when you sat in the wheelchair you grabbed my hand again and gave me a look like please don’t leave me. I was there the whole time.

I never knew I had the strength to sit there and watch you die. The hardest thing in my life was this. The second hardest thing was squeezing your hand as I kissed you on the forehead telling you it was ok to go, that I loved you. I didn’t want that to be my last goodbye. I choose to watch you die because I would not want to be alone when I was dying. I wanted you to know I was there. You knew we were there because as you were dying a tear ran down your cheek.

Your heart kept beating after they unhooked the machines because you were fighting, until we told you it was ok to go. I think dad misses you, but he won’t say so. I blamed god forever because I prayed for you everyday, but that could not bring you back. Dying was the best thing because you don’t have to suffer anymore.

Through the bad times and the good times you were a great mom. This journey that I have been through has been hard with out you. I wanted you to be there when I got my license. I wanted you to be there when I have a baby, when I get married, when I started and graduated college, but I must do it on my own. Day to day is hard but all I can do is try. I will be something someday mom and I will make you proud. I still have my memories of you and me. The good and the bad. I can finally tell myself your not coming back. Maybe I will see you again one day, not suffering and not sick. For now goodbye mom I love you

Dani