Dear Mamรฃe

Dear Mamรฃe,
I miss you so much. I miss you every day and I love you. And I want you back. You were everything to me. You were the one that made me๐ŸŒˆ. I wish you were here making newย memories. The old memories are fine with me right now. The most important thing is that I was with you๐Ÿ’ฉ โค๏ธ๐Ÿ’”โค๏ธ๐Ÿ’›๐Ÿ’š๐Ÿ’™๐Ÿ’œ๐Ÿ’ž๐Ÿ’•๐Ÿ’—๐Ÿ’–๐Ÿ’˜๐Ÿ’“โ˜ฎโœโœก๐Ÿ›โ˜ช๐ŸŒˆ๐ŸŒƒ๐ŸŒ‰๐ŸŒ„๐ŸŒ…๐ŸŒ‡๐ŸŒ†๐Ÿ๐Ÿ–๐ŸŽ‡๐ŸŒ ๐ŸŒŒ๐Ÿœ๐ŸŸ๐Ÿฏ๐Ÿ˜๐Ÿฐ๐Ÿ—ฝ๐Ÿ—ฝ๐Ÿ—ฝ๐Ÿ—ฝ๐Ÿ—ฝ๐Ÿ—ฝ๐Ÿ—ฝ๐Ÿ—ฝ๐Ÿ—ฝ๐Ÿ—ฝ๐Ÿ—ฝ๐Ÿ—ฝ๐Ÿ—ฝ๐Ÿ—ฝ๐Ÿ—ฝ๐Ÿ—ฝ๐Ÿ—ฝ๐Ÿ—ฝ๐Ÿ—ฝ๐Ÿ—ฝ๐Ÿ—ฝ๐Ÿ—ฝ๐Ÿ—ฝ๐Ÿ—ฝ๐Ÿ—ฝ๐Ÿ—ฝ๐Ÿ—ฝ๐Ÿ—ฝ๐Ÿ—ฝ๐ŸŒˆ๐ŸŒˆ๐ŸŒˆ๐ŸŒˆ๐ŸŒˆ๐ŸŒˆ๐ŸŒˆ๐ŸŒˆ๐ŸŒˆ๐ŸŒˆ๐ŸŒˆ๐ŸŒˆ๐ŸŒˆ

Miss M dictated this to me last night. Throughout the holiday Mamรฃe was ever present but the rawness of missing her was not readily apparent. But it certainly was last night…

Lying in bed she began to cry.

“I miss Mamรฃe. I miss her every day…”

“I know my love. I miss her too.”

The crying intensified as she railed against the unfairness. As she spoke what was in her heart she talked about her memories. I shined my phone on each and every picture that adorn every surface of her room asking her to tell me their stories. As she embraced each memory, the crying lessened. I asked if she wanted to blog, that that’s what helps me to feel better when I am missing Mamรฃe and she said no, she wanted to really talk to Mamรฃe.

“Then let’s write her a letter.”

“Ok,” she said shakily.

“Do you want to write it or do you want me to?”

“You.”

So she poured out her heart and soul and I did my best to keep up with her, frantically typing into my phone. When she was done I went to add a heart emoji but hit the poop emoji instead. Our eyes locked with a twinkle and we both giggled through our tears as we said how Mamรฃe was totally laughing in heaven. She grabbed the phone and excitedly added one emoji after another.

When she was done I asked how she wanted to share it with Mamรฃe.

“Let’s send it in the ocean.”

I said I’d print it in the morning and we could go to the beach after school. I hit the share button to email it to myself.

“Hey, do you want to email it to Mamรฃe’s email?” I asked.

Her eyes lit up as she nodded her head. I could feel the heaviness in the room dissolve into the heavens along with the “whoosh” sound signaling her message was on its way to Mamรฃe.

After printing the letter this morning I went to the window to start my car. A fox was making her way out of my yard and crossing the street.

“Marisa come here quick!!! Look! A fox!”

We stood at the window and the fox stopped, turned, and stared straight at us. After a few seconds she trotted into the woods. I told Miss M about the blog post her Mamรฃe had written about missing Nana Canada and that she had seen a fox that same day and knew it was her Mom.

A smile spread across her face. “That was Mamรฃe wasn’t it?”

I nodded and she grabbed me in a tight squeeze. “You can put my letter on the blog.”

So here it is.

I hope it elicits the same feeling of hope and healing within the darkness as it did Miss M and I.

Love,

Aunty L
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