I will never forget the day you went home to God. I was out in our living room, trying to distract myself from what I knew what was about to happen. It was December 3rd, 2014.

The boys were outside sitting with me, waiting. All we had done for the past two days was wait. Dad told us you were going pretty soon. He just didn't know when anymore. You couldn't talk, you couldn't hear... You could barely even breathe. So in our living room, it was quiet. We were waiting. Waiting.

You were suffering for a long time. You were in pain. The thought that the cancer was destroying every fiber of your being made me sick to my stomach. But when December 3rd came around, I never thought, in my lifetime, I could experience feeling my heart break and shatter into pieces.

The night before, Daddy sat with you and I walked into my room where you were laying. I remember that he wouldn't leave your side, but I wanted to say my personal goodbyes in private, with no one around to distract me. As I held your hand, I wondered if you had any sense if I was even there. You couldn't even grip anything anymore, let alone my hand. You were always sleeping during your last days, and I knew then that the disease won over your hearing, so you had no idea what I was going to say. The sad part was, your body was there physically, but I think your spirit had already escaped to Heaven long before. You weren't yourself any longer.

I told you that I would miss you. I told you that I couldn't live without you. I told you that I would be forever heartbroken and sad. I told you that I loved you and I always would. It's all the usual things you would say to someone before they were going to pass away. But you didn't understand. I kept my composure on the outside, even though it hurt watching you suffer. On the inside, though, I was already gone, broken and shattered. I honestly thought I wouldn't ever get better.

At 11:26 AM, on December 3rd, 2014, you went to Heaven. God called you, and you answered Him. You followed Him home, and I followed my family into my bedroom where you laid after hearing your last breath. I heard it all the way from the living room. Emotions took over; my mind started spinning, and the tears began rolling. I cried and laid my head on your chest. As I look back, I remember that so many thoughts were running through my head. How was I supposed to go on without my mother?

The support we had and all the love we received that week was super overwhelming. So many people came to our house that day. I felt like I was suffocating. I was so happy that so many people cared for us, but at the same time, I wanted space to breathe. I needed to organize my thoughts. I couldn't focus on anything.

Your funeral turned out great. You looked so beautiful. Since the radiation was going to make your hair fall out, you shaved it all off. It was once blonde, and it grew back brown. So during your service, you had a blonde wig. You also wore flip flops, and your favorite rings and necklace. That's how we all remembered you.

There were a lot of people there. The church filled up so much that others had to stand in the back. I spoke about you in front of all of them, and so did Dad. You knew I had a problem with standing up in front of crowds, and I still do; but to talk about you, my glossophobia went away in an instant. Your spirit and memory were to be kept alive always. I loved talking about you.

I hated crying and I still do to this day. I think I cried for two straight weeks because I missed you so much and I felt like I literally could not go on without you. That Christmas felt really weird without you being there taking pictures or making us our annual cinnamon roll holiday breakfast. Also, all you wanted to do was see me turn 18 and graduate high school. But God had other plans. I would have to admit that the first year without you was the hardest year of my life.

I wish this didn't happen so soon, or even at all, rather. To me, 17 is a young, sensitive age to go through such a traumatic experience. My brothers were 14 and 12. People used to tell us that most kids don't go through something so horrible at our age. I never really thought about it at first; but looking back, I now realize that they're right.

I started thinking about how you won't be there for many things in the future. You won't be there to see me graduate college, get married, or have children. At first, this thought killed me. But I realized that you will definitely be there by my side through it all, just not in physical form. And that's okay.

I was never a fan to talk about you or your story. I really wanted to, but I chose not to. It's not because of me feeling "uncomfortable" about it, which I wasn't. No, this was mainly because I didn't want sympathy, and I didn't want people to think that I was looking for a way to somehow get away with things. However, nowadays I choose to talk about you more, regardless of what people think. I want to keep your memory alive and I will continue to do so. Your story and your battle with melanoma deserves to be known. You mean so much to me and I have every right to talk about you.

Now that the 2-year mark is coming up in a few weeks, I look back and realize how far our family has come. Of course, we all miss you every single day, but we have a new normal now. I don't think we will ever get over the fact that you're gone; we just learn to get used to it. Even though things have changed around the house, we still keep your beautiful soul alive. You sit on our table in the living room. You settle in my necklace that says "Mom" on it; I wear you around every day. I have pictures of you in my room and on my laptop. I have our home videos on my laptop as well; and whenever I need to feel better, I watch them to see you and hear your soothing voice.

Today, as I am writing this to you, almost 2 years later, I hope you are proud of the person I have become. I hope I'm making you happy. I don't ever want to disappoint you in any way. Yes, I do wish you were here with me, cancer-free and being your fun, awesome self. But, as you used to say, "Everything happens for a reason." I believe that, too. I will forever admire your beauty, your bravery, your courage, and your strength. I have never known anyone stronger and I never will!

Keep watching over me and our family. I miss you so much. "Wherever you go, whatever you do, may your guardian angel watch over you."

I love you more, Mommy.

Love, your baby girl