Dear Mom


Dear mom,

It has been a while since I have seen you; I just wanted to tell you a few things. I am living my life one day at a time, which is something that you did and it seemed to work really well for you. You lived your life to the fullest, always in the present and didn’t seem to worry so much about the past or the future. In fact, you seemed to look forward to each new day and the changes in your life that were coming.

For me, some days are harder than others and some days it’s really minute to minute. Sometimes the pain of missing you is more than I can bear. Sometimes I have a physical pain right in the middle of my broken heart. How do I mend my broken heart when it is broken because I miss you so much and I’ll never see you on this earth again? How unreal everything seems. I feel like I am in a tunnel getting further and further away from you. As I travel through this tunnel, you get smaller and smaller and yet I cannot find a way to stop my travel onward. I am on a journey that will take me further away from you than I have ever been before, a journey that I was not yet supposed to take. I feel like I am living in a bad dream, in some parallel universe, that this is not my real life. Every once in a while I feel a little prick in the wall of numbness that surrounds me. This needle prick is a reminder that I will never see you again. And never has a prick hurt so much. I don’t want to face the reality of life without you, mom. I don’t know how to live in a world without you. I don’t want to know what that cold, cruel world is like. I don’t know how to be strong without you loving me; I am not ready to stand-alone.

Sometimes I think about how unfair it is that you were taken so suddenly from us. You are supposed to be here, calling us up on the phone, popping over; for dinner, movies, to lay on the loveseat at Lynetta’s and eat microwave popcorn and complain about your cold feet and sore muscles. You’re supposed to be calling me and saying “Hi, it’s me, your mother.” You’re supposed to be here to watch Nia and K.C. graduate from high school, college, get married and then make you a great grandmother (but not for a lllllooooooonnnnnnngggggg time). You’re supposed to be here to watch Lynetta walk down the aisle and have her first baby. You’re supposed to be here when Sean finally meets Ms. Right and he too becomes a parent. You’re supposed to become this 80-year-old crotchety old lady wearing bright red lipstick and talking way to loud.

You were supposed to help so many more people and become Dr. Kathi Simpson, author, creative memories maker, bringing generations of Hine families together. We were supposed to develop a super close relationship, you and I.

Sometimes I’ll say to myself “Wait till I tell mom” only to realize that I can’t. I sometimes wonder why is it that you haven’t called, come over, or sent me an email. And then I have to tell myself again the awful news.

Mom, I really miss you so much. I miss your hand in my life. I miss your unconditional love and never ending support. I miss your voice and your smell, your hugs and kisses. I miss sitting beside you on the couch and you putting your arm around me. I miss hearing you say “I love you”. I miss your advice and I miss just hearing you go on and on. I miss laughing with you, playing games with you, nd just enjoying life with you. I just miss everything about you that made you you.. I miss having a mom.

Mom you should know that all of your friends that I have talked to have been wonderful. You were such a wonderful friend to them. Your friends have been absolutely wonderful to talk to and to share memories with. There has been such a powerful feeling of peace surrounding us because of all the prayers of everyone whose life you touched.

I hear from them how much you were looking forward to moving down to be closer to the kids and me. Sometimes I feel guilty because I didn’t spend as much time with you as I should have. Sometimes I feel like I just didn’t make a good enough effort.

Mom, you were the buffer between the family members and the glue that held us all together. Through you we heard about the news of your relatives and where they were in their lives. And now we have to do it without you. We have to learn to become a closer family, to get to know each other. You would be happy to know that we are doing that. That we are making the effort to be the close knit family that you wanted.

Right now it’s hard and it just doesn’t seem real sometimes but I will be ok. I’ll grow from this experience and become a stronger person, emotionally and spiritually. I will always miss you, until the day I can finally join you. (Hopefully by that time you will have finished talking to everyone up there). Even though I can not see you in body, I feel your presence, surrounding me, supporting me, encouraging me, loving me.