One Year Later

Dear Mom,

The world misses you. Someone in Cambodia didn't get a cow from Heifer because you weren't around to donate. Most of the birdfeeders at the farm have been put away because you weren't here to fill them. Some asshole blew through a red light guiltlessly because you weren't there to yell at him.

I miss you. Arranging family get-togethers is like herding cats. I never knew how picky dad can be because you quietly fed him what he wanted. I'm still trying to figure out how to get the bloodstains out of the upholstery. You must have been some kind of magician to make order out of this chaos.

This has been the worst year of my life. The suck has been compounded by being unable to receive advice from you. You knew how to make people listen to you, and you always knew the best thing to do, and you had the balls to do it. Remember when you hugged a stranger in an elevator, and she hugged you back and cried on your shoulder? Or when I wanted to strangle my sister-in-law, but instead you visited her in rehab to help her? Or when you stuck to your diet just in case you got better and it made a diference? I've bungled so many situations this year, and run from confrontation on a monthly basis. It seems half of my success as an adult stemmed from your counsel.

At least I know that no matter how much I fuck up, you'll love me anyway.

Yours,
L