Happy Mothers' Day!

I greeted my mom friends today with this message:

"To all you brave souls with an exceptional tolerance for pain, Happy Mothers' Day!"

I didn't want to be all mushy on Twitter or on Facebook, so I'll just say this here.

Happy mothers' day Mommy. I miss you everyday. I wish you were here. When I count the years we spent together, they seem so few. I've known many of my friends for far longer than I knew you. And I never got to know you as a person. I only knew you as my mom, the smiling face that would wake me up in the morning and greet me when I got home from school. Who stayed with me at the hospital for a week when I got sick, and made me feel loved at a time when things weren't going very well for us. I know how hard you fought for us, and how hard you tried, mom, and I thank you for that.

Sometimes, I try to imagine what my life would have turned out to have been like had you been with me. Would JJ's life have turned out to have been more productive? Would you and Daddy have stayed together? Would we have been friends? Or would we have grown painfully apart as I dealt with the turbulent years of adolescence? I have tried to get to know you through the people you loved most while you were here, but I still haven't pieced together the whole picture. I wonder whether I was never meant to get to know you as a person. I disagree with Tita Susan about so many things like religion and the RH Bill (although I love her nonetheless). I wonder if we would have argued on principle about the same things. Would we have traveled together? Would we have liked the same books, and listened to the same music? Would you have disagreed with my life choices? Would you have approved of the boys I dated? Would we have exchanged harsh words as I defended my rash decisions? Would you have approved of my career choices? Would you have loathed the person I have become, or would you laud how I have managed to become independent on so many levels?

I know we weren't able to talk much those last few days before you died, and that I wasn't exactly a perfect daughter to you. I talked back on occasion. I realize now that I was being very selfish when, after having been released from the hospital, I asked you to quit your job and stay home with us, but you did it just the same.

I have so many questions I want to ask you. A million things I want to say. But I know you will never hear me. And this is the most I can do to even attempt to get this across. I only hope that what they say about the hereafter IS real. See, I haven't even made up my mind about THAT. On the off chance that it IS real, I hope I see you there, and that I find the words to tell you everything I haven't been able to say.