Dear Mom,
There are a lot of things I find myself wishing that I could say to you today. If you were still here, but across the country or just one state up I would call you and tell you that I miss you. Today is a day that I dread each year. The past four years have been tempered with the distraction of the dog trying to drink your ashes out of the lake, the second sitting on the porch, Henry trying to roll off the dock at the lake and the last year, moving clear across the country the next year. This year, it’s quiet.
I moved, to a part of the United States you told me to never move to “Too much rain”. I got married, even though you told to never get married. “You’ll end up barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen.” Actually, that part of pregnancy was pretty nice. I just didnt like commuting at 9 months pregnant in August. Remember that guy, the one named Thor who came with me to the hospital after your surgery? You were out of your mind on medicine and gave him a sandwich in a biohazard bag. You talked about Richard Pryor and Lenny Bruce. When we went back to NYC he started to make you CDs to send you to listen to while you recovered.
I remember that day when dad called. Thor and I were sitting on the couch watching a documentary series that you would have loved. I had such a huge crush on Thor. We were a disc or two away from the series finale (to this day I cant bring myself to finish it). I remember the way Thor and I sat exactly. I remember the scene that was on the screen, the way the noise dropped out of the background and dad’s words sounding like when my friend in grade school called from California in the 80s. Long distance all echoed and delayed. Your mind was gone he was telling me, there wasnt enough oxygen to your brain (you had a big nerd brain). We hung up. I waited and I turned to Thor and repeated what dad had said. He already knew, he let me say it again and again and then maybe one more time. I waited. At some point I there was a packed bag in my hands. Thor was only in a thin shirt with nothing but a bag for his sketch pad and pens.
Skip was outside, calling to tell me he was taking me home to you. To say goodbye to you, while you were still somehow alive. Thor was gone. My heart, it hurt just a little more somehow I wasnt surprised that he couldnt take it. It was a lot. For anyone. I remembered the last boy you met. The one that showed up in jean shorts to my birthday dinner and you just rolled your eyes? I guessed that this was the same.
It wasnt.
Thor was already in the car. In the backseat putting my bag inside of it. With just that thin shirt and his bag. Going to Boston. Without even asking a single question he was there. Holding my hand as I called all of your friends to tell them about you. He still is.
I am sure that you would have loved him the more that you met him. Mara said that you liked him. When I asked her why she came back with “Because she didnt tell me how much she didnt like him.” Mom, I love him. He is the single most amazing person I have ever known. He is my best friend. Anytime I feel sad he holds me no matter what, he tells me that he loves me and is nothing without Henry and I. He makes me a better person. He makes me pull myself up and move on without forgetting the good parts.
I want to tell you that I am okay. That I am happy and well. That I have a beautiful, sweet and talented husband. I have the most wonderful kid. He laughs like you, he is smart like you and hilarious like you. I am sorry that you could not see me here, at this time and with this family. I am sorry and hope that your time spent with me and Mara filled you the way that my family does now. I really hope I was a good kid to you most of the time.
I miss you. I love you. I hope that I can be a good mother and a wonderful friend like you. Thank you for exactly everything that I am. I will now, forever honor this day by helping other people and try not to feel so sad about it. I promise. You made me promise that I would take care of other people. I will. Watch.
Goodbye.
26 Comments
Oh Sara. Yet again you make me cry with your honest poignant writing. I love you.
Awwwwe, love you girl. You made me cry with this post. I’m sure your little momma knows you’re in a good place with good peeps. Enjoy your rain. xo
Sara this was so a sweet and beautiful letter. Thank you for allowing us to share in that moment.
so beautiful & heartaching.
beautiful. i have tears.
thank you everybody. im glad that you came here to read this letter.
Wow, Sara. This is amazing and I am writing to tell you, through tears, that I am glad you’re in this world.
so many tears. thanks for sharing the loves in your life.
Your mom was a barrel of energy. I believe that energy is with you now. I am so glad you have your family to express that love and energy with. Thank you for sharing your letter with us.
lovely. can’t believe it’s been 5 years. you were very strong when you guys lost your mom and you still are. xo.
so wonderful to express and share our emotional life. your mum sounds wonderful and a part of me will celebrate her each time i hear henry laugh. mothers are so special. thank you for celebrating yours !! <3
beautiful sara.
thanks tea. it means a lot to me that you are helping us grown henry into a good person. even if sometimes he is a little monster or just wants to watch a little monsters.
bee, you are such an amazing example of a human being. Thank you, bee I miss you. xox
Thank you Sara – I’m glad you shared this. You are an amazing writer and I think an even better daughter.
thanks for this sara. i miss your mom too and am sending you and mara all of my love!
totally made me cry….you really are a talented little lady sara…love amber
This is truly gorgeous.
Thanks Sara for sharing this letter with all of us. It means so much and make a huge difference to life. We always trust our inner voice to rewrite our thoughts but without letting others take part. Your very talented and courageous. Thanks again.
Hi Sara. Just wanted to tell you how much I loved your mom. Thanks for sharing this letter. Hugs and love, Naomi
i wept when i read this. my dad died 7 years ago this may. i wish i had the balls to be able to put it out there like you have, but i can at least feel something through your words. so thanks.
xs
you are amazing, and I can’t wait to meet you in person. I am sure your mom is looking down, sharing in your happiness. she knows.
Oh, Sara. What a beautiful piece of writing. Thank you.
I’m glad I met you, and that I found you again.
x
Aw. Thanks Anna and Jenna. Anna me too! I was like WHERE DO I KNOW HER FROM?!
I feel really lucky to have you guys around daily, hope to see you in NYC this summer! Lakehouse!
Sarah,
Im sorry about your dad. I am glad that you found this piece a little cathartic. Thank you for taking the time to read this.
Sara
Thanks for sharing!