DEAR MOM

Dear Mom,
Well, it's Christmastime. Almost anyways. It's been a really rough year this year...well...since you went Home anyway...Ive been pretty lacsidaisical about everything. Nothing really seems to matter much to me...I cant sleep at night anymore, too many thoughts going through my mind...too much coffee too maybe.
I've always been weak on death. Never understanding it. Never getting it. Hardly greiving for those who are gone...but I guess I understand the greiving a bit now. But selfish as I am it seems the greiving is for me...what I have lost.
I suppose you already know this, but I'll tell you anyway...you cant tell me I'm wrong now can you? Then again you couldn't tell me that when you were here. Anyway, I want you know that I really feel cheated by this whole thing. Easter was such a joy for you...and all the holidays and children's birthday. I gleaned a lot of second-hand joy from vicariouosly watching you celebrate life through those moments.
Then you went and died just before Easter. We had to make our own peanut butter eggs Mom...it wasnt pretty. Then Jean's birthday and Mine...Then Amber graduated from high-school...and we remembered how excited you were that you were going to see it happen, but you died...and I feel cheated. Amber's and Becca's birthday are past now...and we had our first Thanksgiving without you...and I wept. Now it's almost Christmas and I am lost without you. My 43rd Christmas and my first without you.
I know you see better than I now. I know you get to celebrate while I mourn.
Just so you know...I'm not angry with you, nor am I angry with the Lord. I am a little angry though, but just because I miss you so. I'm kind of mad with our health care system that I think let you die because we had no money. I really believe that if you had been wealthy they could have and would have done alot more to keep you alive. It was evident, easy to see that most of the people in that hospital were there for their paychecks and nothing more.
But you were 80 years old...that's hard to grasp too. My Mom was 80. hmmm. And you'd never really taken very good care of yourself so I mean...everyone has to die, but that seemed so silly that you would get a cold...and die.
Uncle Buzz told me that it was up to me to be the Strength of the family...the binding cord that holds us together as you were, but I'm afraid Mom that I don't have that strength at all.
Aunt Joyce asked the question that I guess we all were wondering..."What are we going to do without you?" What are we going to do without the Cord that held a family in place through the Great Depression, World War II. The Cold War...the Sixties, the hand that drug us all through the 70's and help us jump past Reaganomics through the 90s...without the one whose strength endured and upheld as Dad slipped from our fingers and left you standing weak and frail...and just as stubborn to persevere as ever, maybe even more...
How do I long for those nights this past year when you would stay up and tell me about life when you were a child. How you met Dan your first husband and how you lived through his death. I wish I could have recorded those conversations so that I might have them now to keep me company through these sleepless nights.

Well, gotta go for now Mom,
I love you and I'm sure I'll write again soon,
You favorite son...just kidding Danny! LOL. We all know who the favorite is...Mom had no favorites. She loved us all no matter what happened.
God bless Mom,
Davy