To my child,
A week ago tonight, you lost your mother.
Your eyes are going to run dry many times in the coming days, weeks, months for crying. I’m sorry I can’t fix that. All I can do is be there to wipe your eyes, and sometimes cry with you.
You will never stop loving her. You will hear her voice guiding you when things are at their worst, and feel her smile when things are at their best. She will be with you, in your heart and mind, from now on. The pain you are experiencing now will go from numbness to terrible until it fades into the background again, but the memories of her will remain.
I know she is constantly on your mind now, but she will pop up from time to time as you get older, hiding behind the laugh lines beside your eyes (you will laugh again, and you may hear a little of her voice in your laugh), maybe in the way you hold your coffee cup or the way you scold your child if you have one. It may be in your art, or your music. It may only be in fond memories.
Regardless of where your mother is within you, she will never entirely disappear. You may be dreading it now, but in time you will come to welcome these momentary glimpses of her within you.
How do I know this?
Because, my wonderful child, it is one of the many things that I love about you, that I see bits of her in you from time to time. Every so often in the coming years, I may hug you for no reason, and I may hold you a little tighter than normal. Know that it is because I caught a glimpse of her, and I am letting her know she is loved. It will also never let you forget that you are loved.
You can keep her alive by not forgetting to live, by loving, and by experiencing everything you can.
And never, ever, ever, forgetting to laugh.