Summary

The content is a heartfelt letter from a child to their deceased mother, expressing a deep longing for her guidance and presence, especially during challenging times.

Abstract

The author of the web content, a grown child, pens an emotional letter to their mother who has passed away, expressing the void left by her absence. They reflect on the past twenty-six years without her, particularly during the holiday season, which accentuates their sense of loss. The author shares significant life events, including a second marriage to a high school sweetheart, the growth of their children, and the birth of grandchildren. They also reveal personal struggles, such as coping with their spouse's health issues, their own battle with cancer, and the emotional distance caused by differing views on vaccinations within the family. The author seeks answers and strength from memories of their mother's resilience and grace during difficult times, hoping to find guidance on how to navigate their own challenges and the complexities of family relationships.

Opinions

The author deeply misses their mother and wishes they could seek her advice on life's challenges.
They believe their mother was a strong woman who faced adversity with grace, particularly during their father's battle with Alzheimer's.
The author is concerned about the impact of their son's decision not to vaccinate, which has created a rift in the family and poses health risks.
They reflect on the evolution of love and care in the face of illness, noting how their relationship with their spouse has changed after health issues.
The author is introspective about their own coping mechanisms, looking back on their mother's experiences with serious medical issues for inspiration and strength.
They express a wish that their mother could have witnessed the joyous family events that have occurred in her absence.
The author feels that open communication about life's difficulties is important, lamenting that people often hide their sadness and loneliness.
They are searching for ways to bridge the gap caused by differing opinions within the family, particularly regarding the COVID-19 vaccines.
The author is seeking their mother's "secret answer" to coping with disappointment, sadness, and making difficult decisions.

Hi Mom, I Miss You

I wish you were here; I need to ask you some questions.

It has been such a long time, twenty-six years. Christmas always takes me home. A place where I belonged even when I didn’t.

When you left us, you took “home” with you.

Now I am homeless in a poignant emptiness. I never expected to feel that way.

This year, the last two years, have been difficult. I have wanted to call you. I wish I could leave you a message.

I should have gone to the cemetery. Sat there by you, had a conversation with you and Dad. Left flowers there for you. You always like flowers.

I have questions. You may not have ever had the answers, but the asking will help.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if you were still here. The world has changed in these last twenty-six years. What would you think?

How would you react?

Did you know I married for the second time? You would never guess who. It was David. Do you remember him from high school? I loved him so much then. He came back to me again when I needed him the most.

I hope you remember. We came to visit. He was there with me when I cleaned your gravestone. We talked and I told you all the news.

He dreamed that he walked into the kitchen that night, and you were sitting there. You told him that everything was okay and that I was happy and loved him.

So many things have happened. You have missed so many special events.

Both of your grandsons are doing well, and you are a great-grandmother now. One is a beautiful teenager so loving and artistic, just like her father. There are two little ones, an energetic boy and his wee sister. They would make you smile. The little ones might cause you to use earplugs. They are so exuberant, exhibiting their happiness in squeals and laughter.

So much happiness.

Life should always be happy. I wish it were, but, of course, you know all too well it is not. You had your share of things that made you cry.

Now, I have mine.

I have questions. I wish we could talk.

Maybe you could help me cope.

You were so strong when Dad developed Alzheimer's when he forgot who we were. I will never forget the night you called me. The night when he told you that you had to leave, you couldn’t be there. You were a nice lady, but his wife would be angry.

That was just one of the life events that you handled with grace.

Now it is my time. David had two strokes a year and a half ago. He was in the hospital for a long time. When he came home, our life changed forever.

It wasn't easy at first. I am not sure you would think I handled it with grace.

We have settled into a new rhythm now. The core of the man he was is still there. He still makes me smile. Love has grown, just not in the way I had expected.

My experience makes me wonder about yours. We never talked about your feelings. Did your love grow then?

Sometimes I have been overwhelmed. I know you were then too. How did you cope? Do you have a secret answer?

Six months ago, I was diagnosed with Endometrial Cancer. I was scared. I still am.

I do not like being overtaken by a disease that strips me of all my energy. My physical scars are minimal, but the emotional flaws remain.

You survived. So will I.

I remember when you experienced what I refer to as a “medical accident.” You went through so much pain and so many procedures and operations.

Now I am remembering you during that time, and it helps me. You were so strong. How did you cope? Do you have a secret answer?

You were such a strong woman. I hope you know that you were.

One of the most challenging questions I have for you is how to cope with disappointment and sadness.

I know you experienced both, but how were you able to handle those emotions?

Now that I am aging and have grown children, communication is more complex.

This holiday season has been so difficult for me.

After almost two years of the Covid virus, I am experiencing an emotional ache, a longing to be with my children and grandchildren.

This disease has kept us apart. I feel like life is drifting away.

The truth is, I am frustrated by our disparity regarding the vaccines. There is a gap, a large, deep gap in our viewpoints.

Can you hear me, Mom? If so, you know I am struggling with this.

You never experienced a pandemic, but I realize you must have had issues with events in our lives when you disagreed with our decisions.

I want what is best for my children. I realize you did as well.

Let me explain. One son does not believe in vaccinations.

There lies the separation. We cannot be together because I refuse to put myself at risk and he refuses to be vaccinated. It keeps us apart.

It scares me. What if he gets sick? There is such a risk for himself, his wife, his children.

We have talked about it many times. Once, I told him if he were a child, I would take him to the doctors, and he would have had the vaccine. There would have been no discussion. As his mother, I would do anything to keep him and his brother safe.

Now, of course, it is out of my control.

So we continue to talk.

I try to be completely open without causing anger, but I worry that he does not understand my actual thoughts.

We have had many conversations, and I know I cannot make him do what I feel is best. He is responsible for his life decisions.

I do not know what to do. Can you help me? Do you have an answer?

Mom, how did you cope with all of us and our bad decisions?

Do you have a secret answer? Is there something you learned later in life that would help me now?

I wish we had talked more. It would be wonderful if I knew how you felt all those years ago.

If I had understood your thoughts and emotions, maybe I would not have so many questions now.

Why are people so afraid of sharing the problems we have in life? When something good happens, we smile and pass it on.

When we are sad and lonely and need that smile and hug, we hide our feelings.

Now that you are gone, Mom, do you have the answer? Is it written in the stars somewhere? If I look up at the sky, will you show me?

Hope did you cope? Do have a secret answer?