Dear Mom.

Dear Mom. 

The day I lost my child, you lost your grandchild. 

When I look back at pictures from the funeral, there are pictures of me hugging everyone else, but you. 

And I’m so sorry. 

While I was grieving, and I was lost, in the sorrows of moving on with out my child, I forgot that you were grieving too. 

And I’m so sorry. 

While I was being hugged by people, some that I barely knew, you were working. You were setting things up, and tearing things down, and organizing flowers, and taking care of me, of my pregnant sister. You were passing out tissues and drying my tears. 

And I’m so sorry. 

I wouldn’t have survived my grief with out you. I wouldn’t have been able to pull myself out of some very dark spaces, with out you. 

Thank you. For reminding me to shower, for brushing my hair, and bringing me coffee. Thank you for letting me know, that a little deodorant, and basic hygiene would go a long way.  Thank you for the smiles and the laughs, that you forced onto your face to keep me moving in the right direction. I know that that couldn’t have always been easy; and I’m so sorry, that I never stopped to ask if you were okay.

 I know people will say that I was lost in my grief and that it was okay, to think of myself, and they are right. But it would have been okay for you to think of yourself too; but you didn’t. You thought of me.

You put your daughter before yourself, and you met my needs before you even evaluated your own. 

I’ve always been good with words. But I’m not sure I will ever be able to say how much I appreciate who you are. All that you’ve done. And all that you’ve taught me. I made decisions about my daughters life, death, and funeral, with her in mind. What was best for her? What would she have (hopefully) grown up to want? What choices might she had made if she were given the choice. And I made those choices because you taught me to put my child first, by always showing me that. 

You’ll never ever know, just how amazing of a mother you really are… and I’m so sorry that I don’t have the ability to make you see. 

I love you, to the moonshine and back, Momma. More than Iced Lattes.