Life Without Mother

Dear Mom,

Today was just about as busy as yesterday. We went to a museum, two plays, and a couple of nice restaurants (as well as quite a few souvenir shops). I’ve felt so out of place on this trip. Like I’m not supposed to be here. Which is kind of half-true. In our minds (Mary Faith’s and mine specifically), you were supposed to be here. Of course, in the omniscient view of God, He knew you weren’t in the grand scheme of things. Too bad we can’t be all-knowing like Someone I know…just kidding. I wouldn’t be able to handle know everything! So there’s already the constant thoughts (in my mind, at least–I can’t speak for Mary Faith) of how you’d be taking it all in and the reactions you’d have or the places you would want to go and just the presence you’d have in the group (you were never one to be invisible). So there’s that, and there’s the awkward situation where I’m only four to six years older than all of the students here and probably half the age of most of the parents. So where do I fit in? That’s right, nowhere. At least there’s this constant struggle here. See, when I was camp counselor, I was put in charge of like 10 girls at a time where it was solely my responsibility (or that of me and only one other counselor) to keep track of the girls. Now there’s this 1:1 ratio of chaperone to student that leaves me as Mary Faith’s “chaperone” though really I’m her sister, and therefore am I really a chaperone, an adult? Ugh. Identity crisis? Not truly crisis of identity in the sense of who I am, or Whose I am, but there is the question of what is my position on this trip and how do I act–like an older sister, having fun with the girls and pretty much being one of them, or like the adult chaperone that I technically am in taking your place and not being a middle schooler? Wish you were here to send pictures to and to text updates. Yeah, Dad is here to do that but you’re the one I keep thinking of and I can’t. Why is it that it’s when people are no longer here that we realize we the little things mattered so much? Like a simple text or “I love you, Mom” at the bottom of a graduation card (or really any card). I just pray that I no longer take those things for granted and that, in reading this, others might re-evaluate their own appreciation for the little things and fix their perspective before it’s too late.
Gotta cut this short because tomorrow is another busy day! We’re going to see Wicked, and yes, I will be wearing my Wicked leggings!

Your daughter,
Hannah