1 Month

Dear Mom,

Sunday marked 1 month since you’ve been gone. I was driving in your car the other day and just started crying. That car was your prized possession and I thought about all the arguing we did when it came to you driving and now I have more of an understanding of why it was so difficult for you to let go of it. With the tumor in your eye, and your declining mental status I just didn’t want you to hurt yourself or someone else. You were so mad at me. I was so mad at you. We both just couldn’t understand each other’s point of view. I went through another box of your things the other day. I am keeping a pair of your earrings that remind me of you. It’s a dangly pair with feathers on it. I wish I had gone to your storage unit before you died. I would have buried you with some of your jewelry. I’m sorry about that by the way. Your hair was always one of your most distinguished features but at the end it just kept falling out. When I had you transferred to hospice you were so restless and your hair became this tangled mess. I’m so glad Auntie came and untangled it and braided it for you. I didn’t have the guts to do it because I was afraid of hurting you. You were kind of angry at me for your first few days at hospice too. I don’t think you even knew what you were saying or doing. Anyway I bought you a beret to cover the top of your head which was completely bald and figured what was left of your hair would hang down. The funeral guy put it on you like a winter hat!! I bought you a new purple shirt but it didn’t look good on you. I don’t know why but I gave him your bra to put on you. It looked silly. You didn’t look like you at all. The only clothes I had of yours were torn or raggedy. Aunt Diana wanted to give me one of her dresses to put you in but I knew it would smell like cigarettes and the funeral guy said it had to be long sleeved. It all happened so fast from the time you died and then rushing out to Parma to make the funeral arrangements. Ugh. I know you don’t want to hear this but you looked exactly like Grandma in your casket! Creepy! Anyway, I’m giving your jewelry to my friend Charity to sell. I have this guilt that I need to keep everything the way you did. I feel like I’m just getting rid of your life. You saved concert ticket stubs, flyers, maps, free drink chips, bottle caps, literally everything. You saved all these things with the thought that one day when you got your own house, you could display these items. These things meant a lot to you, but mean nothing to me and I feel guilty. All the letters and journal entries I’ve found about the abuse you suffered…I am speechless. I hurt so bad for you. I will never forgive myself. I never really believed you. You were almost always drunk or high, which in my judgemental mind made everything you said or did, a lie. Ever since I can remember I defended you. I wanted you, no one else. When I needed you, you weren’t there. People would comfort me. I was always sad. As I grew older I taught myself to hate you. I stopped defending you. I will never forgive myself. 


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