Dear Mom-

I know the last time we spoke, I said a few things I didn’t mean. I was a kid, you know? It’s funny how time flies. You’ve been up there for three whole years and yet I still miss you some days. I always thought you would be there, a thorn in my back until I was 80 and you were like 120ish, but you aren’t and it really sucks on days like these.

When you passed, I never got to say thank you for all the things you taught me. You taught me how to get back up, even when the world has me on my knees. To never let a man beat me and control me. To stand up for myself even if no one believes in me. That, even on my own, I can accomplish great things. You were so strong and you fought a battle that I never could fight, but God left me with your bravery.

There’s so much that has happened since you left. I graduated High School finally. I met my first love. Had my first break up. Got accepted into my dream college, but landed elsewhere. So many opportunities are here and I just wish you could see how perfect everything is going. And, I wish you could punch the boy who broke my heart like you always said you would. Grandma’s doing okay. She’s surrounded with all of my animals and is finally getting out of her shell. But in all honesty, even when the world is coming down on me, I still think of you. I wish you were here to hold me like I’m a kid again, brush my hair, tell me it’s alright, but you aren’t. I just hope I make you proud.

The day you left us, I was so angry. I was angry at God for taking you away. I was angry at me for driving a stake between us. I don’t know why I said those things and left without a goodbye. I never thought it would have been the last phone call I’d ever get from you. I was never mad at you. I wanted to hold everything bad against you because I had no one else to blame, but it was never your fault and I was in the wrong. I just didn’t realize until it was too late for me to say I’m sorry. I really am sorry. I took for granted the fact you’d always be here. That you’d always hold me when I cry, brush my wild hair, and sing me to sleep. You never saw me off to school again or cooked me a wicked grilled cheese. Instead, you left us in the night without any warning.

I love you, Mom. I’ve wanted to say it for the longest. I never said it as much as I should have as a child or even a rowdy teenager. I know, that was all you wanted to hear and I failed to give that to you. But, I am now. I’ve lived 3 years, almost 4 without your laugh and child-like innocence and I wish I could see you again, but God has you now.

I’ll always be your little Butterfly.

A Loving Daughter.