Life Without Mother

Dear Mom,

Today has been pretty much beyond what I hoped it wouldn’t be. I had hoped that the memory of you would not overtake the joy of being with family. That hope was achieved. But only because there was no joy of being with family. As a matter of fact, our family was scattered for Thanksgiving. Hope and Dad were at the hospital (she comes home tomorrow), Grannette was with your brother (since the rest of us had planned to go to see Grandma and Grandpa), and Mary Faith and I ended up going to some friends’ house for the meal. Because of our separation and the disappointment of not even getting to be with family, it made me miss you even more because somehow if you were here it would have been more fun. Mary Faith might have been more willing to go to the hospital and I would have enjoyed it more, Dad would have felt more at ease knowing you were there for us like you always were before, Hope wouldn’t have missed you. I wouldn’t have missed you.
I hate that I can still hear your voice in my head. But I never want to lose it.
I hate that I can still see the look of love in your beautiful brown/hazel/green/gold eyes. But I never want to be unable to remember.
I hate that I didn’t tell you how much I love you when I had the chance or how much you mean to me and our family. I hate that even now as I wear one of your sweatshirts, the scent of you will fade and I’ll never smell it again.
I thank God that we didn’t have to experience even more loss, though Hope was in the hospital. I thank God that I have my life to live for Him.
But today was definitely not a “Happy” Thanksgiving.
I feel there was so much more I wanted to say. But I can’t find the the words. I miss you, Mom, oh so much.

Your daughter,
Hannah

(P.S. If all that wasn’t enough, when I finally got home this evening, our recordings on the TV weren’t working so there were no new Hallmark movies to make me feel better.)