Dear Mom...

Dear Mom,

Today, the weather is so amazingly beautiful you wouldn't even believe it's Fall, and it made me want to talk to you so much I almost started talking to myself today in the car. I thought this would be a more appropriate, less psychotic way of doing things. I miss you so much, sometimes I think my heart will just stop beating I want to see you so badly. But it doesn't. And I realize I am still here, and I must try to live my life the way you would want me to.

Yesterday I bought something I think you would really like. You know how you wanted me to get a "really good" pedometer so I can tell how far I'm running? I got one that sits in my shoe with a sensor that's attached to my iPod, which tells me how far I've gone, how fast, when I hit my goals, things like that. I'm sure you would think it's pretty neat, and I used it today for the first time. But I am having trouble breathing while I run, and I can't catch my breath after only about one mile, and I'm so disappointed by that. Someone told me they think I have exercise-induced asthma, so I went to Dr. M's today, and she gave me an inhaler to use before I run. It didn't feel like it helped at all, but I also had just eaten for the first time today right before running, so I'm sure that no matter what, I wouldn't have run well today anyway. But, I am really upset, because I want to run, and I want to be able to run far and run marathons and make you so proud of me, and what if I can't? I am trying not to think about that right now. But I can't help it.

Tomorrow night, I am getting another tattoo. I can picture you rolling your eyes as you read this, but it's in your honor and it won't be obnoxious or anything. I found a card you sent to me when I moved into my apartment at school, and it said, "Some parents can't wait until their kids go away to college..." and then on the inside it said, "...but I can't wait for you to come home!" And you signed it, nothing fancy, with your beautiful handwriting, Love you, Mom. One of the things I miss most about you, actually, is your handwriting. It was so perfect. And so you. So I'm getting the Love you, Mom part copied and put on the top of my foot so I can see it all the time. I think it's appropriate, and I'm so excited to have a part of you with me all the time.

Another thing I know that you wouldn't be too thrilled about is that I turned in my two-weeks notice today at work. I'm sure that you would be supportive of this decision, since you were the one I called when I had such a hard time at work after aunt Polly died. And she wasn't even in anything scary, just the Hospice floor, where it was quiet and somber. No alarms, no ICUs, no Code Blues, no crash carts, no struggling to breathe, no screaming for help, not like you. So I am sure, knowing what we went through with you, that you would understand why I can't return to work, since these are the areas that I am in all day long. I used to love it. My stomach actually churns now just thinking about walking back in. I want nothing to do with it. That job that we talked about in the Wellness Department hasn't been posted, and I know that you would have preferred that I know I had that job before I quit mine, but I just couldn't go back. But I will still try for the Wellness job, since I love it so much and would do well in a different, and less traumatic environment. I hope you understand. I'm sure you do.

I can't tell you in words how sad I am to be here without you. This weekend is the weekend my friend Kelly is coming from Columbus to play with me and Sara in Cleveland. I know you were so excited to meet her, and I know you were looking forward to us having a shopping spree for you and bringing the clothes we picked out for you to Hope Lodge to have a fashion show. You were really looking forward to this weekend, and so was I, and I think the girls were too. The three of us are still getting together this weekend, but instead we will be taking piles of donations to Hope Lodge. I would give anything to be carrying in bags of jeans and sweaters and shirts to you instead of bags of napkins, paper towels, and toilet paper to all of the families who were luckier than we were. I would give anything.

Sometimes I really wonder why you are not here with me now. I try to understand, to make sense of why this happened to us. Especially after it just happened with aunt Polly. Aunt Janny and I talked about it, and she said that maybe aunt Polly was sad because she was taken away from all of her sisters and that she chose you to come stay with her. I am trying to understand this and to not be mad about it. I know you two had a bond from both having breast cancer, and maybe she just really needed you. Or maybe God knew long before that you would not make it through the transplant, so He put aunt Polly there first to bring you in safely. I do not know. All I know is that my heart aches for you to be near me, but I have to remember that you are safe and with your sister, and I am trying so hard to be happy for you both. I think about you together all the time and how much fun you must be having. I hope you are adjusting well. I worry about you all the time, and hope that you like it in Heaven, even though we are all still down here on Earth. I hope that whatever anger or hurt or fear you had while you were dying and there shortly after disappeared and that you are now content and free, although I am sure it is a huge adjustment being gone. Hang in there. You were so brave and strong, you can keep it up until it all gets a little easier up there, which it will, I'm sure. I'll see you again someday, but for now, have fun, enjoy aunt Polly's company, since you missed her so much, and keep watch over me until I am with you in Heaven. I love you. I miss you.