Dear Mom,

The first Mother's Day I can remember had the smell of (burning) pancakes filling my nose as I stood on my tippy-toes at 6am trying to make you breakfast before you woke up. I remember the warm smile and laugh you gave me when you walked into the kitchen and I sheepishly hung my head over using the stove without supervision. I remember embracing you in a hug and burying my head in your curly hair and telling you that I love you. I remember handing you the necklace that you would wear every day since in a little pink bag tied shut with a ribbon and yelling Happy Mother's Day! I remember you telling me how much you loved me.

I remember the Mother's Day that you were sick. Instead of making you pancakes you had a meal from your IV bag. I gently crawled into bed next to you, careful because I thought I might break you. I remember your eyes fluttering open, and I whispered Happy Mother's Day. You smiled weakly, told my you loved me, and brushed my hair out of my face with your finger before your eyes closed softly again and you drifted back to sleep. I remember going downstairs, giving my stepdad a hug, and making pancakes for one.

Today, I walk into the florist and pick up a bouquet of tulips - your favorites. I get in the car and I drive to see you. I look up at your memorial stone and touch it, yearning to feel your embrace. I put the flowers in a vase and leave you a note that says how much I love you and miss you, hoping, praying that you can read it. Boy, I wish heaven had a phone.

On Mother's Day, I give you as much credit as I can even though you deserve more. Even without you physically here, I learn from you more and more every day. Thank you for being in my heart always. Thank you for showing me the light when I feel like I'm in the dark. Thank you for giving me hope that one day I'll be as brave and as strong as you. I miss you, Mom, but I know you're always here.