Letter to my mentor

Dear Mum,

I'm writing to thank you. I can only hope that by the end of this letter you will understand how much you mean to me. However, I don't believe words will ever be enough to express how I feel about you. I know that I don't thank you as much as I should. In ways, I believe that I take advantage of the thought that you'll always be here, regardless of whether I express my gratitude or not. But you deserve better than that. You deserve to know how much I truly am grateful for you. As a mother is supposed to do, you have taught me so much about life, love, and everything in between. Over the years we have had plenty of ups and downs, some of which have brought us closer together, and others that pulled us a part. You are one of my best friends. I believe that we will always have a deep connection that may sometimes bend, but it will never break. The list of thank-you's I could write about would be never-ending, so I'll keep it short and begin with the most important reasons. 

When Mark died, you and I grieved together, while everyone else kept to themselves. You, however were profoundly strong. At least that is what you wanted us (the rest of your children) to believe. I don't know what I would have done without you during that horrible time. You taught me that crying is not a sign of weakness, but rather a sign of strength. When I was lost in the torment that ached my heart and mind, you held my hand and brought me into the light. You made me realize that I was not coping with Mark's death in a healthy way. You helped me sow my wound shut, so that it could begin to heal. The wound became a scab, which then became a scar. You took care of all of us before you dealt with your own sorrows and grief. When you finally broke down, when your heart couldn't pretend any longer, my scar ripped back open. I couldn't let you go through it alone. I needed to be there for you, just as you had been there for me. Believe it or not, during that time you taught me another valuable lesson. To never hide behind a mask of emotions just to please other people. If you're not okay, say so. If you need help, ask for it. And when you want to give up, have hope. I think this is something that we learned together that summer. Something that I will keep with me for the rest of my life. 

During those horrid years that followed Mark's death, I was broken. I hated life, I hated God. I didn't want to move on with life without my brother. I know you felt the same way, except of course he was your son. I don't know the pain of losing a child, and I hope that I never do. I can only compare my own pain of losing a sibling, which I doubt is nearly as agonizing as losing your first born. I gave up, I let the darkness surround me and trap me in it's web. I wanted to. I felt like I wasn't supposed to be happy anymore. I felt as if a part of me would always be dead. But as I mentioned, you brought me back to reality. You told me, "Life is going to move on with or without us, whether we like it or not. We need to be strong, and let Mark live on through us." By giving me such inspiring words to ponder, you gave me a purpose again. A purpose to begin to live again, to begin to laugh again, and to begin to love again. The purpose was all for him. To live for him, to laugh for him, and to love for him. As I learned to do these things for him, I learned to do them for myself. Today, I still love and miss Mark more than anything in this entire world, and I know you do too. 

Thank you for always being there for me, not just during the worst time of my life, but for all of the other times that I thought the world was over. Every time I had my heart broken by some jerk in high school, you told me that someone better was out there. You said, "You've already been through the worst thing (Mark's death), you can get through this break-up." There have been times that I have repeated those words to myself over, and over again, knowing them to be true. I'm a stronger person because of you. I wish that I could have reversed the roles and helped you as much as you have helped me. But I know that day may come, where you will be old and grey, and I will be your nurse. Just as you were mine, physically and mentally.  Your bravery, strength, kindness, and warmth are qualities that you have passed on to me. I couldn't ask for a better mother or friend. I love you with my whole heart and soul Mum. Please don't ever forget that!

Love always,

Molly