To My Beautiful Mother,
It's that time of year again; your birthday time. March 7th will be your birthday. It would've been your big day. You would've been turning 60 years old. I've always been wondering what it would be like for you, how you would feel. You probably wouldn't be too happy about it, I smile thinking about this because you'd probably do something manic. Like get a tattoo. You know I would be doing the same thing with you. What do you think we would get? Cliché mother daughter tattoos? Nah, we'd get something ridiculous. Only something that means a lot to the both of us. We'd throw you a huge party like we did for your surprise 50th that you knew about. I know we'd get drunk together and would probably argue about something. Putting two strong drunk women in a room together sometimes equals bad news, but I know we would do it all in good fun.

I'm scared to turn 27, Mom; I think it's because it will be closer to the ten year mark of you being gone. Ten years ago my world crumbled, ten years ago you were gone in an instant. I always think about what would happen if you were saved, if the blood clot that traveled to your heart was found on time. Would that mean that you would've cheated death and that something else even more tragic would've happened to you? I don't like thinking about it that way.

You would've been able to see the girls grow up into two beautiful young women, you would've seen Uncle finally accept his sexuality and marry an amazing man. You would've seen how far Daddy has come. You would've been able to hold your nieces newborn children, you would have been able to babysit my best friend's son. You would've been the shoulder for your sister to lean on after she lost her husband. You would've been there for me when I had my breakdown...

God, how I wish you were there for me when that happened. You knew first hand what it felt like to feel as if you lost full control, where your brain completely convinces you that you were completely insane. The realization of you being gone hit me so hard that it made me go crazy. All I needed was your voice to tell me that I was okay and I knew that was impossible. It hurts still, that hole in my heart is still there, but with that pain, I know that it means I have a strength within me that is stronger than a pack of Lion's chasing their prey.

Even though you were only with me for seventeen years, those are seventeen years that have kept me going. Even though you died, it was like a part of you went into me to keep me alive. When I was driving the other day "Fire and Rain" by James Taylor came out of my speakers, I started to sing to it, then noticed that I was crying. That song reminds me of you so much and I could honestly feel you there with me singing it too. It's comforting to know that you are here still, even though you're not physically.

On your birthday, I will celebrate your life, I will cheers to you, I will laugh for you, I will cry for you. Ten years feels like 100 years, and I know I won't want to get out of bed when the day finally comes, but you should know that because of you I am the woman I am today. And I will continue to be that woman. In ten more years I will continue to be that woman, fifteen years, twenty, thirty...I know you're proud. I know you're smiling and I sure as hell know that up in your paradise you will be celebrating with us on your 60th birthday.

I love you.
Forever and Always.

Until We Meet Again.

Love Always,
Your Baby Girl