LETTER TO MOM

Because everyone needs to write a letter…

"I have died everyday, waiting for you. Darling, don't be afraid. I have loved you, for a thousand years. And I'll love you for a thousand more.”

*Christina Perri (A Thousand Years)

                    

                      ***

It happens every time. 

I think about you, and my thoughts; along with my reason flies away. 
At times, I am sad, other times there's this feeling of nostalgia that makes me want to find a time—machine and revisit all those nice times that we had together ( or simply bring you back to life)

The stories you told are engraved in my mind forever, and I tell them as well; not as well as you did though, I tell them whenever I can. 
(To an audience that sometimes appreciates them, but also to people who look at me, laugh, then say “You talk too much, d’you know that?”)

Mom. 
I am not you.
And at this moment, I cannot even profess to be what you once were.

Since you left, a lot has happened. I have grown.(You won't believe my shoe size!)
I’m still growing. 
And most importantly, I found Jesus; not like how I once knew Him. He is beautiful, Ma.

And he has cared for me in all the time you haven’t been around.
Ma, I sit here writing; and thinking that maybe it’s time for me to say goodbye. But writing this doesn't hurt as much as I thought it would, and that’s good, right? 

(Also, I’m watching the Hunger Games, another book—turned—movie franchise. Yep, this generation is bursting with it. You’d be amazed at the kind of technology we have these days.)


I made friends. I actually made friends. 
A very nice girl called Debbie, a beautiful old soul we call Tryphena, and others whose names I couldn’t possibly mention, because then this letter would have more pages than a Francine Rivers novel.

Debbie.

Try.

My life isn’t the same without you and it most definitely isn’t better; but for some time now I’ve been thinking this must be right where God wants me to be.

I sing now; thought you should know — you never really saw me do much of that.

Oh, some character in the Hunger Games movie just died. Her name was Rue. She was young, with a pure heart, and, she died at a time no one expected—much like you. Difference is, you had someone to carry on your legacy.

Me.

This picture has no business being here, but, it has aesthetic value, and also, I'm hungry.*insert wink emoji*

I don’t even know where this is going, but my fingers are beginning to cramp from all the typing. I’ll go soon now.
Above all the things that I wish for you, Ma, I wish that you knew Jesus the way that I think that I do now—as my Lord and personal saviour, and as the only way to eternal life.
We didn’t talk much about Him, did we?

But then again we didn’t speak much during those last minutes, you were too busy protecting a child from seeing her mother die, and I was too busy trying to get away from you. 
Seeing you that sick and weak did unimaginable things to me, Ma. And now, if I had that night again, I would tell you how much I love you, hold your hand, and maybe read to you some poetry — I was into that then.

I wasn’t there when you took your last breath, and so all I have is hope; the hope that close to the end you saw the light. 
And saw Jesus as more than a standard for the morality I’m sure you upheld; that you saw the Savior as the way, and the only way.

This is the first letter I’ve ever written to you, Mom, the first of many. And I’m going to post this; because us orphans need to write more letters, get to say some more goodbyes.

Off now, say hi to Jesus. Save the rest of us space in the biggest condo up there in heaven.

Jeremiah 29:11—that’s the consolation I have here on earth.