For all the faults I’ve been digging through in therapy, my mother was really a wonderful human being.
She wrote letters faithfully throughout my first year of college, and I probably wouldn’t have survived much without them. As much as I wanted my independence, I also wanted my Mommy.
Some of the letters were funny:
“Dear Holly Angelina Veronica… I’m going to work at the CF (Cystic Fibrosis) bike rally in Muenster on Saturday. I think it’s going to be a lot of fun. The only problem is I don’t know the way to Muenster.”
“Brian tried on his tux shirt today and instantly turned into a Chippendales dancer.”
“I’m excited about your first trip home. It’ll be so much fun washing and ironing your clothes. I’m really looking forward to it.”
“We went to a CF tea at S____’s and B___’s house today. It was the most incredible house you’ve ever seen. There are at least a million dollars of antiques in it. It’s really neat but only 2 gay guys would ever want to live there.”
And some are heartbreaking, now that time has passed:
“I loved your letter. I know how it feels to need your mommy. Hopefully you’ll never have to know how it feels not to have a mommy. Yours will always be here for you no matter what.”
It's been fun going back and reading these, and hearing her voice in my head again. There's a whole container of them, and it's raining outside so today seems like a great day to go through the rest of them.
I do miss my Mommy.