Letter to Mom #1

A message to Mom one year later 

          Mom,

            A year has passed since you left this earth. It isn't the
    same place anymore. During this year, Bernie has left this earth
    as well and has now joined you.

            What has changed since you left? Well, there's a hole in
    Dad's life that will never be filled, for one. He misses you
    terribly. All that the two of you were together he's had to carry
    on alone. It's true he still has two kids but neither of us can
    take your place. There aren't as many flowers in the house and
    the music that fills the house isn't quite the same. You preferred
    the oldies, especially Motown and Dad prefers country western. Dad
    was very depressed for most of the year until towards the last month
    or so...when he started accepting. However, the pain and the 
    feeling of great loss is still there for him. Life will never be
    the same for him.

            There's a hole in my sister's life as well. However, I see
    a lot of you in her. She has almost the same green thumb you do but
    more important, she also has a caring nature. She takes care of
    stray cats and has an eye for beauty.  She also has your wacky
    sense of humor but, like me, she misses your advice regarding
    her two children, Christine (15)  and Anthony (3) .  You were like a
    second mother to Edith's husband, Ed, who lost his own mother years
    ago. Edith's home was figuratively torn apart by your death..all of
    them hurt still. I feel for Edith's son, Anthony..when he grows 
    up, he won't have a very lucid memory of you. I'm grateful we have 
    videos of you and all the pictures not to mention stories Dad, 
    Edith, Christine, Ed, and I can tell him.

            There's a hole in my own life that can't be filled again.
    You always listened to me and gave excellent advice. Our
    conversations were always inspiring. When I was sick, I always
    could count on you to make sure I knew what to do to get well
    and when I got hurt and ended up in the emergency room, I never
    had to sit there alone. Yet in the past year, I've had two bouts
    of bronchtis that I had to deal with on my own and I sliced my hand
    open and ended up in the ER waiting to get it fixed alone. Luckily,
    I still had all the lessons you taught me to get me through these.
    I was angry, then I was depressed after you died. It took many
    months to even begin feeling "normal" and that last only until
    Bernard died.

            In the past year, what remained as a family, nearly tore
    completely apart. With you gone and Bernie joining you, we had to
    learn all over again how to be a family. There was no one to give us
    the advice we needed to get through it this time..this time we had
    to figure it out for ourselves. We're still not completely together
    as a family but we are trying. Dad's resumed his place as the head
    of the family but now he realizes he has two adult children so
    instead of Dad feeling like he has to take care of us, we take care
    of each other. Slowly, we're learning how to be a family. It won't
    be anything like the family we had while you were alive but then
    not much will be the same. I recently became employee of the month
    on the job..the job you helped me land. Now I've bid on a job that,
    should I get it, offers a hefty salary raise, a promotion and
    computer responsibilities. I'm looking forward to the challenge but
    again, you're not here to share in this good fortune and see where
    your initial "investment" went to. I miss our inspiring talks, our
    battles of wits via practical jokes, and the closeness of
    philosophies we had. Nothing even remotely seems the same. Even the
    dog still waits for you to walk through the door, although recently
    it's fairly obvious he has figured it out...you won't be walking
    through that door again. However, we retain all the lessons you
    taught us, all the values you helped us acquire, and you showed how
    to love someone unconditionally. You showed me the love of music,
    how to love God's animals, and how to care for others without
    expecting anything back. A year later, I remember it just as I did a
    year ago. I love you, Mom, and I miss you. I'll never forget you,
    though.

                                Your son,

                                        Max