Mom.

Dear Mom,

You’re mom. You’re the one who raised me. You’re the one who loved me when she didn’t. You’re the one who wanted me when she didn’t. You’re the one who rocked me to sleep when I couldn’t stop crying – when she didn’t come back. You’re the one who’s kissed the boo boos. You’re the one who got all ghetto (as only a white chick with a blonde fro’ and 5’2″ can) on the mother of the kid at that party – you know the one. We’ve had so many ups and downs – and then more downs. And yet – despite all that – you’re still here. You’re still with me. You’re still for me.

You’re the one my kids go to get sneaked gum (and jelly beans – and popsicles). You’re the one who will let them stay up late to watch tv with you. You spoil the kids as only grandparents can and have license to do.

You still bail us out financially. You still don’t blink an eye at paying for a bill, ’cause you know I’m the only kid who’ll pay you back.

You love those kids. Love them so much that I sometimes get jealous. Isn’t that strange?

But mom.

Please.

Don’t die. I already had one die. You can’t die too. This kidney thing? It’s gotta stop. I can’t imagine making it through life without the one person – the only person – who actually was happy I existed as a baby. You know what the backs of my ears looked like. You cannot die. Robert then Jeannette. Not you too. I don’t know how I’ll survive.

I’ll never send this to you. Never ever. It would upset you. It would upset you that I’m upset. And that’s why I won’t send it. You’re the only one other than Jay that ever got upset on my behalf. So you won’t get this – your heart can’t take it. I know that. That’s why with you? We won’t talk about death. We’ll talk about life. And the kids. And husbands.

Just please? Hang on a little longer.

Love,
Michele