Letter to my mom

Dear Mom,

Happy anniversary! You and Dad got married 38 years ago today. What an accomplishment! You guys did it: a successful marriage, all while giving birth to and raising 13 kids. You had your ups, you had your downs. Your marriage was rocky at times. Really rocky. But you and Dad made it work. Somehow, miracle of miracles, you guys worked through those issues. If you hadn't died, you'd be with dad now, just coming home from an anniversary dinner. Maybe you would have gone out for fish. It was one of your favorite things to eat. I must have gotten that from you.

I don't know what Dad did tonight exactly, but he was probably with his fiancee, T. He's engaged, you know. I'm ok with it, I really am. I think you are too. Dad deserves to be happy, he deserves to have someone in his life who will be there with him for the next 35 years (He's planning on living to be 94). That's a long time to be alone. I couldn't do it, and we both know Dad can't. He just needs someone in his life. And he's found someone who loves him and gets him. If he married T. tomorrow, I'd be ok with it. I just want my dad to be happy. Plus, I really like her. She's nice and kind. We were up until almost 3 last night talking. It feels natural around her. Mostly, I like how much she cares about Dad. She genuinely loves him. How could I not like her?

R. left today. I won't see him for 2 years. I'm both really happy for him, glad he's doing the right thing and that he'll be able to help the people in Mexico, and really sad for me. What will I do without him around? He's been one of my best friends. Plus, who will make pies next Thanksgiving? I think they assigned W. as a joke, but I don't see W. making that many pies...

I made sure to kiss R. on the forehead before I left and told him to be Prayerful and Careful. Take care of him out there, ok? I know you love him more than I do (can a sister's love compare with a mother's?) so make sure he comes home safe.

I actually got real advise from a doctor today. He thinks he can help me with my problem. Apparently it all stems down to anxiety. Not surprising there. I have plenty of that.

I also got my abdomen worked in a Structural session today. I had a lot of emotion stored in there. Again, plenty of anxiety. And pain. And anger. And fear. Most of it was fairly fresh stuff: my car accidents, you dying, fear of other people I love dying, etc. Some of it was old. At one point, I felt like I was about 3 or 4. A memory returned to me that I almost wish I didn't remember. I'm glad I can process it though, that I can heal now. Hopefully I won't have so many stomach cramps anymore.

After that, I didn't really feel like doing anything. I wasted time waiting for Chris to get out of school. Then we went out for dinner. Part of me really didn't want to go out, but the rest of me knew I needed something outside the house, something that would help me be happy. It's not that I'm depressed or anything, but after so many negative emotions surfaced during the session, I needed some positive. We went to Red Lobster. I love fish. Just like you. I had some delicious Salmon. At the time, I didn't even remember that you liked fish. Now all I can think about is the fact that you always said that sometime you'd take me out for fish. We never went.

I don't even know how I feel right now. There is no strong emotion sticking out to me. I kind of feel like there are so many emotions running through me, they've cancelled each other out. I'm not numb the way I was right after you died. I'm just tired.

Part of me wanted to just go to sleep, but I was afraid that if I do, I'll just bury all of this inside of me again. So I'm writing this. I wish I could call you up and tell you about it my day, my dreams and my goals. You'd listen the way you do and then share insights. I know you're always listening, but I wish there were insights still too. I guess I'll just have to fill in the words I've heard you speak in the past. It's not as good as hearing them from you though.

I love you so much Mom. It doesn't matter if time, distance, and even death itself separates us, you will always be my Mom and I will always be your daughter. Thank you for throwing advice to the wind and having all 13 of us.

Love,

Cynthia Jean