Happy Mother’s Day. I wish you were here. I would cook something for you. Something fancy because you were always so impressed when I did.
I can’t believe it’s been almost five years since you left us. I still think about you every day.
I’m not sad like I was in the beginning. Now I can think about you and smile, not cry — almost. I can laugh, and feel joy that I have all these wonderful memories of you before you got sick.
The tea rose bush that my neighbor gave me after you passed away is flourishing, no thanks to me. It must be soaking up your energy and it goes through multiple cycles of blooming and re-blooming.
Steve and I almost have your Thanksgiving down pat. Still can’t get the dressing just right, but we’ll try again next year.
Even though you’re not physically here today, you are in my heart. And maybe I’ll even prune my herb garden in your honor. You’d be horrified to see how overgrown it is.
Or, maybe you wouldn’t be surprised at all. You’d just get on your knees, shears in hand, and start trimming, humming the melody to Gloria Gaynor’s “I will survive.”
Love you… miss you… thank you.