If Heaven Had A Mailbox, I Would Send My Mom A Letter On Easter

Dear Mom,

Today’s another Easter without you. It still feels like yesterday you were asking me what I wanted in my basket. That’s all a dream now because you’re not here to ask me what I want or give me a basket.

My heart aches for your presence today. I want to wake up from this nightmare and see you. I just want a hug and kiss from my mom. That’s truly what I want from the Easter bunny. Of course, the Easter bunny can’t grant my wishes because you’re in heaven.

I’m not going to see you today for Easter dinner and it makes my head spin. Dinner isn’t going to be the same without you smiling at me from across the table. It’s not going to be the same without your laughter or your voice.

I don’t even remember what your voice or laughter sounds like anymore. My mind likes to pretend, but the truth is I don’t remember anymore. Too much time has passed since I heard your voice or giggle. I would do anything to hear you today on Easter. That’s not going to happen, unfortunately, because I’m just dreaming. I’m sickened by how many things you’ve missed. You should be here with me, Mom. You shouldn’t be in heaven missing Easter or my life.

I still need you, Mom. I still need you to talk to on the phone for hours. I still need you to hold me tight when my life is falling apart. I still need you to tell me everything is going to be alright. I still need your text to get me through the day. I most of all need you today, so my mind can stay calm and feel normal.

You’re not here to do any of these things anymore. I can say that I need and wish all I want, but it’s not going to change the fact that you’re gone. You’re not here to pick up the pieces anymore. It’s just something I have to accept and learn to deal with more rather than least. Some days are better than others. Holidays are the worst obviously because it’s all about family.

My heart cries because the pain is unbearable when I go to the food store around holidays. The supermarket is filled with Moms and daughters getting ready for upcoming holidays.

My mind instantly tends up because I don’t feel normal anymore. I feel as if I’m an outsider without you, Mom. I don’t even think an outsider is the right word. It’s more like an alien from another planet. My mind makes me think all eyes are on me; when in reality no one is staring at me. Everyone is just minding their own business and getting ready for Easter just like me.

I need to stop thinking everyone is out to get me or bring me down. That’s what you would tell me. You would also tell me that I need to light up more and realize what I have versions what I don’t have. I wish I could just hear you tell me this. It would help me calm down and let myself believe your advice. I do know one thing, Mommy. I will keep your advice dare to my heart and try my best to follow it every day.

Easter is here. Every emotion you can think of is running through my head. I can’t help it. The emotions are just running through me like water goes into your body after a drink. Some emotions hit me hard and quick, while others take their sweet time. I wish they would just pick one pace. You know me, Mom, my emotions have never come out the same way. The thing I miss the most about you is how you knew exactly what to say when I’m feeling like this. I’m struggling to try to figure out what to do.

As I sit here and write this to you, I can’t help myself from questioning what our plans would be today. Would we be having Easter at your place or my place? Would we be cooking dinner together? Would you be the only one cooking dinner? Would I be cooking dinner? Would we get take out? What would you get me? What would I have gotten you? Would we be going to someone else’s house for Easter? Who would we be spending Easter with? What would we be eating for dinner? I could sit here and question every last little detail of Easter, but I can’t because the more I wander the heavier my pain grows inside of me.

I have to accept the fact that you’re not going to spend Easter with me. You’re not here anymore. As much as I wish this nightmare would end, it’s not going to expire like spoil food in my refrigerator. The nightmare is never going away. It’s going to control my life and mess with my emotions. I need to figure out a way to not let this nightmare control me without you.

Don’t worry, Mom, I’m determined to survive Easter and life in your absence. It’s the only way I’m going to learn to be okay.

I know I’m never going to be the same. I have changed so much since you died, Mom. Some days, I don’t even know would who I am. It’s like a part of me died with you. I’m hoping one day I can find that missing piece and become somewhat myself again. The thing is I’m still looking for what I lost.

I know I’m never going to normal. That’s okay though because being so called “normal” is overrated. I’m not going to be considered normal anyways, so why should I try? I’m not going to try to feel normal anymore. It’s time to embrace the abnormal life.

You’ll never read this letter, Mom, but it felt good for me to get everything out. Everything I have been holding in for far too long. As well as everything, I’m feeling today on Easter.

I want to end my letter by saying that I love you and miss you more than you will never know. Also, don’t worry about me, Mom. I will survive today because I’m a strong woman who can conquer anything.

With love,

Your daughter

Check out my page, Kimi Ann-Marie for various of posts about life, mom life, and grieving. Check out my page, Positive Thinking About Parents Death for grieving advice about your mom or dad and reminding yourself you’re not alone.

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