Hi, Mama. It's hard to believe that this will be my 7th Mother's Day without you. You would have been sixty-five now and a Grammy to my one little guy, Preston. He is just like you, and I really think his soul is a reincarnation of yours since you took your last breath only three weeks before he was born. It felt like some type of soul transfer. Sometimes he will make a face of yours and it takes my breath away, which is funny because I don't look like you and he is my twin. I wonder about the type of relationship that you two would have had together, and if me becoming a Mother would have made us closer than we already were. I think about my rotten teenage years and how I wish I could go back and be better to you. I think about me being Preston's age, and how I didn't want anyone but you. I think about now, and how I manage to scrape by without you. I don't do it so well but I try my best. Even though you've been gone for some time now, I still go to text you often. I wonder how different life would be if you were still here but I know that's my own selfishness speaking because sometimes I just still really need my Mom.
You never once complained about being sick, and you always made sure you were still living life even though you underwent grueling treatment for the cancer that haunted you for eight years. You made sure to still have fun with your friends, get your million tattoos, and rock a bald head with a Harley bandana like no one else could. I'm so glad that you were there to feel Preston kick in my belly that one time, even though we were sitting in the waiting room of the ER awaiting some of the worst news we'd get for you. When the cancer went to your brain, you still managed to text through emojis, and I knew you were determined as hell but so tired. I know you always fought hard and long to stay with us for as long as you possibly could, even making my baby shower just a few weeks before we said goodbye. I'm so proud of you, Mom. I don't know how you did it, and I still don't. I've never seen such a fighter and you still managed to make us laugh in the hardest time.
I hope you're proud of the woman I am today. I hope you know I made it through the hardest parts of the last almost seven years, and I'm stronger from it. I learned that from you. I know you wanted the best for your children, and I know you know that you raised some ass kickers. I know you'd be so proud that I went for my dreams of becoming a writer, a book that is solely inspired by you. You just wanted me to be happy. Always. I often wonder what you'd say in certain situations when they happen. I know for the majority of them you'd say, "Relax, Kell." We both know that is something I was never good at it. It's so weird to navigate through life as a Mom without your Mom. I watched you lose yours in your 40's, and that alone made me never want to think of ever being without you. There's so many things I have wanted to ask you because you're the only one who could've ever answered them. You know that my whole life all I ever wanted was to be a Mom, and I can't believe I am one without you to see it. He would have you wrapped around his finger, and I know with everything in me you two would be inseparable and a whole mess of trouble.
Thank you for showing me how to be a strong woman. I don't think I would've made it through the toughest parts of life these last few years without your blood flowing through my veins. You were the epitome of badass. That will stay with me every single day I am on this earth, and I know the day you welcome me to wherever you are will be the hug I have been waiting on. I love you, Mama.
Love your baby girl.
Comments