Jillian Bickle Photography |Cobourg and Northumberland Area Photographer | illustrating your life story

Dear Mom,

 Yesterday I buried you. Never in my wildest dreams did I think at 28 I would be standing around your gravesite. I’m still finding it hard to believe. Hard to contemplate what life will be like without you. I think in the next six months the things you will miss. The girls starting Kindergarten. Elijah finishing JK and moving up to SK. Riding his bike without training wheels. Kaleb being potty trained and actually talking now. Kaleb turning 2, the girls turning 4. Cheering on Elijah at his soccer games. Watching the kids swim in the pool. And that is just the beginning, and that is just with me and my family. You had easter presents sitting waiting to give to the kids in a few weeks – although you already gave the kids their rubber boots cause you couldn’t wait until then. You always went overboard on occasions, giving the kids big goody bags full of candy, toys and clothes. You loved to spoil your grandchildren.

Gracie keeps asking when you are coming back from Heaven. When dad left my house the other day Eve yelled out “bye Nonee and Poppa!” and Elijah keeps saying he’s sad. I know they are kids, and kids bounce back and that they will be fine. But it still breaks my heart to think of the things you would have loved to be a part of with them growing up. How proud you would have been of them.

 I don’t know what to do, or to think, or to feel right now. Half of me expects you to come walking down the hall still. And the other half just feels so much saddness and guilt. I didn’t even call you to say goodbye before we left on our trip. I thought I was too busy. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all of the times I didn’t pick up the phone at the end of the day to see what you were up to because I was just tired from the day. I’m sorry for not hugging you more or telling you I love you and appreciate you more. I’m sorry I took you forgranted and expected you to just always be there for me when I needed you. I hope you know how much I loved you. How much I depended on your advice. How much I appreciated you. I hope you know how much my heart hurts for you now.

If I could climb into bed, close the blinds and my eyes and block the world out, I would. I just want to sleep my pain away. But I try to think of all the good times, all of the things that will bring a smile to me. And I think of all the nurses, doctors, and paramedics that came to your funeral, that said how much of an amazing nurse you were. There were patients that came because you made an impact on them when you took care of them. You loved being a nurse. And you were a good one. I always think of my life and that I want to do things that matter, that help others, that make an impact on lives. You did this. You helped people in times that they felt helpless. You did this often, and you did this well. I hope you know that.

 I try to remind myself that you are now in the most amazing place possible, with nothing but love and happiness surrounding you. But out of selfishness I want you here. I never cared that we had such a small family, that nan and pop were the only ones around because you and dad gave us a great childhood. But with you gone, it’s like a big chunk has been taken away. We just keep thinking, ‘what do we do now’. Everyone keeps telling me I’m strong enough to get through this. And I know I am. Happy times will come again, and life will go on. But right now, I feel like a weight is crushing me, like at any time I will burst into tears and not be able to stop. Your absence will always be felt, there will be a constant reminder everytime something happens that you are not here to share in it.

Mom, I didn’t tell you in awhile, so I’m going to tell you now. Thank you for all of the opportunities you gave me growing up. The times spent with us that have created amazing memories. Loving my children so deeply and unconditionally. I’m sorry for the times I caused you grief and upset. I’m sorry for anything I ever said that hurt you. I love you. And I will do my very best to remind your grandbabies how much you loved them, and how much you mattered to us. I take comfort in knowing you are being Miners to my three babies I have not yet met.

 So until we meet again,

Jube xox