Dear Mom,

Yesterday marks one month. One month has now passed since you've been gone. And in many ways I am totally floored that it's already been a month, and in other ways, it seems that this, has been the longest month of my life yet.

I still miss you and think of you daily. There are still times I get choked up and find myself with tears flowing down my cheeks. I don't think I'll ever stop missing you.

I have questions now that I didn't have before. How did you take care of so many things so gracefully while you were so ill? How did you make your departure so loving and beautiful?

And then I have silly, mundane questions like wishing you could tell me how to keep a Peace Lily alive because I'm having a really hard time. You'd really laugh at the four plants I have.

I miss our daily phone calls and if I could get a direct connect to you right now, I think I might talk your ear off for eleven hours straight without taking a breath.

I find myself reflecting on years and years of history between us and within our family. Memories come back in no particular order and for no rhyme or reason. There are many funny things and heartwarming moments and the occasional thought that has me wincing, mostly because of me and my, at times, immature ways and thoughts on life.

M, still asks questions occasionally and sometimes even forgets that you're gone, rather thinking you're on an extended vacation. Sometimes I wish that were the case.

H, pages through photo albums, and there are many that bring tears to my eyes. Your smile, the joy you have in the pictures and the love that is beaming through. It's never been clearer to me than it is now.

Mom, even if we'd had more time there wouldn't have been much more to tell you. You knew I loved you. You knew I was sad. You knew that I didn't know what I would do without you.

And I still don't. I think of you, I remember you, I dream of you and I talk to those who knew you. I listen to dad. Your sisters and I call each other. We are each a connection to you.

I think of all the things people have said of you the last several months. I think of how you would respond in certain situations. Always tactful, yet honest and to the point. On Christmas morning when a certain brother-in-law's wife (Oh you know the one mom) asked me about you and about dad, I had all I could do not to fly across the room and give her a piece of my mind. But I remembered what you would have said and what you would have done. And I kept my mouth shut.

You taught me many things, way too many to recount here. It's been resoundingly clear that I have learned what kind of person I am and who the other people in my life are. And this matters because it's something you always said you were discovering. During your illness, you learned who was really there and who your real friends were. So did I.

I am getting tired of people asking if I've gotten back into the routine of life again. It's not like I've spent the last month sitting on the couch drinking egg nog and eating fudge. I much rather would have done that. I've been figuring out what a life without you, the constant encouragement, love and truth, is like.

I've been trying to balance a lot of things and keep myself together, mom, and I know that you would tell me, it's going to be ok and I know in my heart it will be too. But I just want you to know that as long as I'm still breathing I'm going to miss you and the mother you were (and are) to me. And even if the days get easier and the tears don't fall as quickly, there's still a hole in me, missing you.

Just as you've always said, I want you to know that I love you forever. I like you for always. As long as I'm living, my mumsy you'll be.

Your middle daughter,
Samara