Five.

Dear Mom,

5 minutes before. 
 I'm holding your hand, ever so gently. Wanting this moment to last forever, yet wanting you to be rid of this pain. Thinking of good memories while trying to look past your sickly appearance. Knowing well that you deserve to be free, that this is not where you should be. Rubbing your hand, wiping your face. Telling you that I will be okay.

5 minutes after
 Tears keep coming. Everything's spinning. Nothing is real. Surrounded by many, yet feeling alone. Shaking.What will I do? It's always been me and her. Her and me. Where will I go? How do I live without her? Sobbing, sobbing. I want to go back. I wish I had been nicer this week. I want to hug her. Feel her. Have her with me and tell me she's not really going. Why did she have to go? Did I do something wrong? This is a dream. This happened to fast, it can't be real. I never thought this could happen. Can't imagine filling the hole that is lost. Please let me wake up from this nightmare.

5 hours later
 Finally in bed, drifting to sleep. Laying next to my Laura, who has been a trouper for me. Not knowing what's going to happen next, but knowing that at least, right now, I am safe.

5 days later
 Not enough seats in the funeral home, standing room only. Slideshow of memories. Empty urn, our little secret about the ashes not getting there in time. Plenty of tears, and smiles to go around. Friends singing. Really feeling in my heart that you say it best when you say nothing at all. So many people sharing a part of themselves, the part they shared with you. People stare, watching me go up. Shaking. I speak, hardly looking at my notes, because it's hard to narrow down exactly what to say about you. You weren't just the master of sewing, or pedro. You were more than just the permanent stage mom, or parent club member. And believe it or not, you were more than just George Strait's biggest fan. You were you. You were my mom. Words can't describe our relationship, no matter how hard I try. People knew we were each other's everything. Looking around, I see how many people you touched. And it let's me know that they are there for me.

5 weeks later
Wishing you were here for my first prom. Wanting you here to help me get ready. Imagining you sitting on the couch crying, seeing your little girl. I push through it. Spend an entire day leaving behind my world of despair. For a moment, I am happy.

5 months later
Mr. Peters tells us to write an eyewitness story. Something you've experienced that you feel you can share. Looking at me, he says that this doesn't have to get too personal. Challenge accepted. Barely stayed within the 5 page maximum. Writing about that night was nothing less than therapeutic. Turning it in, I feel accomplished. Here is a keepsake of what happened. My last moments with her.

5 years later. 
Less than 4 hours until the exact moment I dread every year. Many tears came with writing this post, because it's so baffling how much time has passed. Every year, it's like saying goodbye all over again. 1, 2, 3, 4, now 5. Look how much has changed in 5 years. What would you do if you were here with me now? Would it be the same? It's funny thinking about back then, about every fight we had in the car because we could never hear each other on our deaf sides. How you stole the Freak Friday punishment by not letting me close my door one time when I was bad. Things that seemed so important and aggravating at the time, and now they just seem stupid. And funny.
Not sure how tomorrow will go, or tonight when I check the time in the middle of the night. But I do know, that no matter what day it is, you are always here, watching over me. Loving me, laughing with me, being here. I wish you could share my life with me, meet all my new friends, and be with me as I continue to struggle through college. It's not the same without you, and it's frightening.

But one day, we will reunite, in that Big Musical in the sky. And it will be the best welcoming imaginable. We'll be dancing along the night of day, and head on down to the milky way.




                 Love your babydoll,
                 Tessy Loo Loo