I was barely 17 when my biological mother passed away. I had rarely seen her the last six or so years of her life. She was severely mentally ill, and with a lot of mental illnesses, she kept going off her meds which only made her symptoms much worse. When I was about 12 years old, I had to stop inviting her to my school functions because she no longer realized when her behavior was inappropriate for the time and place. Her pride for her children outweighed her better judgment.

Everyone knows someone with a parent who is completely over the top yelling and cheering on their kids. Well, that was mine. Anything she came to, people knew exactly where she was. I even have a recording of a program I was in 6th grade, quite possibly the last one she was invited to, where her hearty laugh can be heard clearly in the background.

She had a beautiful soul, it just was hidden from view for most of her later life.

I wish I remembered more of who she was, things she would say, things she would do.

I wish I had been able to push past everyone and everything telling me to keep my distance. I was young. I didn't know what I know now.

Each year seems like it gets harder and harder not knowing her. I am one year away from graduating college with my bachelor's degree in psychology, and she won't even be there to watch me walk across the stage. I know if she could make it, she would be one of the people to cause a ruckus in between names called. She had a way of disregarding authority, something else we have in common.

There are so many times when I will see a girl talking to their mom or going shopping with their mom or eating dinner with their mom or just doing anything with their mom, and I break down internally because I will never fully have that mother-daughter bond that they have.