Dear Ma,

Today marks exactly 9 years since you were here. 9 years. WOW. I can’t believe its been this long, and then again, it feels like an eternity. So much has happened.

I know you are with me, I wish I could feel it more though. M says that you visit her in her dreams. Maybe you could pop over and be in mine sometime? I could really use one ofMoms_room002 those hugs, you know the ones. We used to hug so tight that both of us were almost blue in the face afterwards. I thought those hugs would never end, never go away. I sure do miss them.

Do you like sweetie? She sure is amazing isn’t she? She reminds me of the best of you. Your patience, your self-less love, your unconditional love of me. I can’t help but think that somehow you had a hand in all of it. Speaking of which, was that you who came to the wedding and flickered the lights? It was the part of the sermon where +Mariann said:

That’s what “sacrament” means: ordinary
things—bread and wine, water and oil, conversation over breakfast, a walk in
the park, dancing through the night—become for us signs, symbols, channels of

I think it was you. Its hard getting used to you in a non-physical form. OK – you know how I feel about it, it sucks. I can’t seem to get the hang of you not being physically here. And the questions! Shit… they are never ending. I swear when we meet up in the ever after, you and I will have a long talk, you talking, me listening and asking my mile long list of questions. You – drinking that horrible instant Sanka crap, me – sucking on a Caribou Coffee light white berry mocha with cherry.

Anyway, I just thought you should know that I still miss you something awful. Oh some days ARE better than others, and yes for the most part I get up every day and "Just Do It" like you always said. But today, today, I really miss you.

9 years. Like a flash of light, and like an eternity. I love you Ma. We all miss you.


10 thoughts on “Dear Ma,

  1. Oh gosh. I have a daughter who likes to hug like that, and misses our hugs since she’s 1500 miles away. Sending a hug to you, but knowing that your Ma is really the one who is still hugging even when you can’t feel it.

  2. Beautiful and sad and wonderful, Love. How can I even take such a compliment? I, too, hope to have a great conversation with your Mom in the great beyond–I’ll drink the Sanka, too : )
    You have no idea how much she gave you and how much you carry of her in this world: strength, compassion, hope–which dies last.

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