You would've been 56 today. It's been almost 20 years since you passed away and still, I think about you everyday of my life. I don't look back on memories like most people do today, but only because I can't. I look at your pictures and old home videos. I think of the stories that other people have told me about you. And I think of the made up situations in my head that I have created over the years of what I hope you would've been like. But I have no real memories of her. I can't remember her voice or the way she brushed my hair. I didn't get that lucky. I was only three.

Now more than ever, it's hard not to wonder who you were. I face problems with my daughter and wonder what you would've done in my situation. What advice would you give me now that I'm a mom? You would love your granddaughter; she's so beautiful. Dad is absolutely over the moon for her. I wonder if you would spoil her as much as dad does or if you would be a tough love kind of grandma. I constantly ask myself if I would still even be a mother if you hadn't passed away. It's a horrible thought really and I shouldn't waste my time on what might've been; but it's hard to not wonder.

As I sit at my desk at work today, I will think about getting pedicures with you. I'll ask myself if I would've played hooky from work and taken you to a movie or to a lunch where we would drink a little too much wine. Would you even want to celebrate? Or would you demand we forget how old you are like so many other women your age? To me, you will always be in your thirties.

When she's older, I'll tell my daughter everything I know about you. The little bit that I do know that is. I'll talk about how your brothers share stories about you with me every time I see them. I'll talk about what it was like growing up without you there and how much I longed for you in moments when a girl needs her mother the most. And I will tell her about all the amazing women that acted as mother figures to me. Never taking your place, but forever helping me grow up. I will tell her how dad's new wife is what I always imagined you to be and how understanding she is on days like this. And how she makes sure there is pictures of you around the house still and how she encourages dad to go visit your grave. I think you would've loved her.

I miss you and that's weird. How can I miss someone I didn't even know? People ask me that all the time. But I think that's what I miss most. I long for the days when I would've gotten to know you. I miss the days I didn't get to have with you. I'm jealous of my sister who didn't get much more time with you, but she got enough memories to look back on today and smile about. I'll visit your grave today after work, like I do every year and think again how this would normally be a happy day.

Happy birthday mom. With everything I have; I love you. I'm thankful for everyday I had with you. More importantly, I'm glad we video taped a lot of those days. I may not have much, but at one point, I had you.