Those 6 days.

Dear Mom,

This morning as I got ready to work out, and slipped on my Idaho shirt that you bought me, my mind drifted to the seventh grade. Your work was sending you to a week-long training class, and it would be the first time that you were leaving a trip without me. I felt so silly that I was sad. I mean come on, I had been on a handful of leadership conferences and weekends away with friends. Why was it different now?

Nevertheless, as you were getting ready to sneak away to the airport early that morning, I followed you out, and before I knew it I was standing in the driveway crying. You pulled me in for a hug, and I knew you felt bad. At that point in my life, that was one of my hardest days, seeing you go… even though I knew you would be back 6 days later.

I smiled thinking about this, remembering how I would call her a couple times a day (like I always did when we were far apart). One time you answered your phone from your hotel suite’s Jacuzzi tub, living up your little vacation. Even though I missed you, I was happy that you got to have some time to yourself.

In the first few months after you passed away, that week often crossed my mind. It was so sad to think about how upset I was to see you go, when you would also be gone for a short amount of time. When now… you’re really gone. How was the mommy’s girl supposed to deal with that?

As the years have passed it has gotten a little easier. At first it was incredibly hard. So many times I grabbed my phone to call you, to tell you about something funny that had happened. It was surreal that you couldn’t be there for all the little things. That I couldn’t hear your laugh anymore. Everything was different.

Now I have a better grip of things. Why? Because I know that you ARE here. You’re always with me, in everything I do. When I mess up and feel guilty, you’re there to tell me it’s okay, and that I’ll learn from my mistakes. You’re there with me to watch the big things, like birthdays and graduation. You’re there when I laugh, you’re there when I cry. You’re there, just in a different way.

As much as I miss you, and as much as I hate the hard days, I still can smile at the fact that I am the luckiest girl in the world. Not only did I get you as my mom, but I got you as a guardian angel too.

                Love your babydoll,

                Tessy Loo Loo