Mother’s Day is the hardest day of the year for me. It’s the biggest reminder of how desperately I wish you were here. I miss you every day but I guess today is different because I get to glimpse purposefully inside so many other daughters being with their moms and I don’t get to do that anymore.
I remember so vividly the gift I gave you on your last Mother’s Day—it was a picture of me as a kid, maybe 3, in a bathing suit and laughing by our pool. I was so happy in the photo, that was why I picked it—just a kid being happy, not a kid being sick. And on the photo in black sharpie I wrote I love you. You kept it on your nightstand.
I wish I had gotten to know you as an adult. I wish we had been able to grow together as I became me. I’m a different person than when you died. Your death made me a different person—kind, generous, more selfless and less selfish. It also made me more timid and more fearful. It changed completely who I was. I wish I were this person when you were alive. I was in my early 20’s, self-absorbed, and maybe even bitter because of my illness. I’m sure I didn’t listen to anything you said or treat you the best. I’m sure I said things I didn’t mean. I'm sorry. But no matter what I couldn’t function normally without you—you were my first call of the day and my last call of the night and several calls in between. And I still can’t functional normally without you. So much so that I mostly stopped talking on the phone after you died. I can’t stand that the other person on the end of the line is never going to be you again. I still scroll through the last text messages you sent me—the last communication we ever had over technology.
I can’t believe the things I’m experiencing without you. It hurts my heart that I went to South Africa without you. Or that I spent the day on the Shark Tank set without you, because Robert would have loved you. As everyone did. He would have made a deal with you for something! You were dynamic, intoxicating, strong, powerful, smart and beautiful. You never took no for an answer and you were easy to admire. You lit up any room you were in. You were everything I hoped I would turn out to be.
Saying that I miss you just doesn’t seem right because it is so much more than that. I feel so incomplete without you. My heartbreaks for the things I never saw you accomplish, I’m always thinking how food has taken off so much now and you would be running circles around todays best restaurateurs.