I love you so much. While I miss you, I also feel closer to you now. I have been known to make the (inappropriate) joke that our relationship is better now that you are dead, but there is truth to that statement. I am able to hear you clearer now, unclouded by your mental illness that screened out the wisdom you have to share.
We both grew up with privileged but at the same time hard existences. Few are able to understand that; they see money as the greatest thing- it is not. Money allows crazy, abusive parents to be deemed “eccentric.” The things done to you were inexcusable. You worked hard to break the pattern but you had a mammoth task and were merely human.
You have the heart and passion of a lion, my august born momma. You prepared me well for this capricious life I live; I am able to face my challenges head on, knowing that I have survived far worse at a much younger age. Everyday I attempt to allow your passion and wisdom guide me. I try to hear you, to ask your advice when I lose my way.
Some say that we choose our life, including which parents we are born to. I don’t know if I agree with that. I do know that while my relationship with you was far from easy, the rewards are more than worth the struggles and I am grateful to have had you as my momma.