Dear Mom,
Well, here it is--that day again. I wonder if you celebrate in Heaven, maybe with your daughter Gwendolyn. I hope so. I know that not a single second Sunday in May has passed without my thinking of you.
Mama, I wish I could have known you better. I have to lean on what others have said about you for my memories of you, but even secondhand, they shine. I know that you were a kind person, a good woman, a person who I would have been proud to know. I know that you were a writer and a proofreader. One thing I remember about you was your handwriting. I was in awe of it--it was so beautiful. Another thing was your crochet. You made the most delicate, most beautiful thing. I know that had you lived, I would have had doilies, arm covers, and baby outfits to admire. As it is, I have a few cherished things that I never take out, but that always make me think of you.
My memories of you are so vague; only a few really stand out. I remember sitting at your feet watching a TV show and crying. Your words, 'Never be ashamed to cry," comforted me. I remember your lullabies--and the way they all ended--bum, bum. I remember your goodnight kiss as I went to bed. There are other things I remember, too, but I don't dwell on them. Years have taught me that I should forgive the bad and remember the good, and I do, Mama. I forgive you for the few times when you treated me unkindly or unfairly. They were honestly few, and I thank you for that. I know that you must have fought yourself, especially when you had your stroke and the ensuing mental problems. Yes, you had problems then and treated us badly, but I know it could have been much worse.
Mama, the most precious memories I have of you happened after you died. Twice, you came to people you loved and cared for them after you died. Twice that I know of, anyway. There might have been many more that I never was told about. I know that you took care of my father in the hospital. He told me I'd been there, and I know it wasn't me. I didn't realize till many years later that it was you.
The second time you did this, it was very clear that it was you. You came to my aunt when she was in great physical and emotional pain, and you helped her. My aunt was so grateful that she convinced her daughter to call me, and as you spoke to me, I know that it was God that led me to ask for more details, which then caused me to realize that the person that she had seen was not me, but you. I don't know how you did it, but I know that you did. This has given me hope for the future. I really do pray that if I am ever in a hopeless situation, that you come to me and minister to me as you did for them.
Mama, God bless you today and always. I will never forget you, and I love you.
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