I couldn't let this day pass without wishing you a Happy Mother's Day. I have dreaded this day since you passed but no matter how much I would like to reverse time or stop it entirely it arrived nonetheless.
I spent most of the morning in bed, only getting out of bed to bathe and prepare lunch. After my company left I went back to bed and slept until dinner. It has been raining all day, but the absent sunshine made sleep easier.
I ate dinner with the Marchants. Jenny, Emma and Xander leave for Vietnam this week and Marlow and Christy were in town visiting them. Kristy offered lots of hugs and encouragement. It was a great way to pass the evening. Emma and Xander were all hugs and kisses; two things I desperately needed.
I returned to an empty apartment and desires to call you; to talk to you about anything and everything. For the opportunity to tell you I love you and hear you say it in return. Hell, right now I would settle for a feeling. If I could just feel your love that would be something but I can't feel anything. Nothing. I miss you more than you will ever know. I think about you all the time. I know you often thought you had failed as a mother; you often said Josh and I deserved a better Mom but you never understood that we didn't want any other Mother. What made you special is that you were OUR mother. God sent us to YOU. Did you drive us crazy? Yes. But we would rather have you here driving us crazy than what we have now.
You probably recognize the picture above. Josh and I bought you the card and print at the Liahona and gave it to you for Mother's Day years ago. The mother in the print reminded us of you. The print is titled Eternal Mother and that is exactly what you are now; eternal. Your spirit will live forever, one of the few consolations I have during our time of separation. Wherever you are I hope you were/are recognized for being a wonderful mother to two children who call your name blessed. What higher esteem can a woman aspire to than that?
Thank you for all the wonderful memories, for the love, hope, encouragement and strength you gave us. We love you and miss you terribly, especially on this day for mothers.
Love you forever-
Sissy

Today is April 30th, one day before your birthday and three months since you passed. A little less than a month ago, as I was writing you a letter I thought about this day and panic set in. How was I going to survive, not only the three month anniversary, but what should have been your 52nd birthday the very next day?! May, I have predicted and continue to believe, is going to be the month from hell. The end of every month for the rest of my life is going to suck because it will mean one more anniversary; one more reminder. Then we kick off May with your birthday and Sunday, May 11th is Mother's Day. With all these important milestones looming I decided to plan a trip.

This morning I am flying to Savannah. I am staying on Tybee Island. Why Savannah? Johnny Mercer is from Savannah. He wrote the song "Moon River," one of your favorites. In memory of you and your birthday I am going to stand on the banks of the Moon River and celebrate you. I have to go because my ride is here but I couldn't leave without telling you Happy Birthday! I hope wherever you are they still celebrate birthdays. I couldn't imagine a heaven without celebrations. If that is so, I know you will have a party unlike any I could ever give you. Here's to 52 Mom. I love you!

Two weeks ago, Dad drove up from Grandma's house to spend some time with me. It was exactly what I needed. Although I offered him the bed he slept on the pull-out couch in the living room. I felt so bad. The mattress looked so uncomfortable but you know Dad. He can sleep anywhere and after taking a Tylenol PM I didn't even hear him snore.
I can tell retirement suits him. He no longer has a problem sleeping in. Although he arrived on Wednesday I decided to work Thursday and take Friday off.

He joined me for lunch at the cafe and then visited with Larry for bit. After work I ordered a pizza and we watched a movie. Not only did the pizza arrive twenty minutes late the crust was burnt. I was furious! As much as I order from them...Shoot. Never again.
Friday morning Dad and I got up around 8:30 and took the train into Washington. The weather was perfect! The blossoms were gorgeous. I wish you could have been with us. You would have loved them. Washington with the cherry blossoms in bloom is magical.
Sitting on the steps of the Jefferson, so Dad could rest, we watched the cutest little princess climb up and down the steps in her taffeta dress and pig tails. I always said I wanted to adopt an Asian baby and seeing this photo I don't see how anyone could argue against it. She was so cute! Her parents had the video camera running non-stop. She seemed to enjoy every minute of it.
Although you can't see them in this photo, she had tennis shoes on and before her parents removed it, a white sweater. I love it when kids wear mismatched clothing. I think it makes them more endearing.
Continuing our stroll around the tidal basin, Dad and I spotted a beautiful magnolia tree in full bloom. Crossing the street for a photo we saw the statue pictured below. Although I have lived in DC for over three years I never realized the statue was a representation of George Mason. For some reason I always thought this statue represented Longfellow. Anyway, I couldn't resist posing with George, especially a George that was such good friends with "The George."

Making our way around the tidal basin we also stopped at the FDR Memorial. Do you remember the first time we walked through? We were with Jerry. It was during our trip in September of 2004. I interviewed with Longstreth and then we marched in the NMAI grand opening. That is one memory I will always cherish. Thank you for making that trip with me. It influenced my life in ways I couldn't imagine at that time.

I took this photo of Dad at the FDR in front of the waterfalls. I love this picture. I posted it in my cube at work. All my coworkers have commented on it. They were all impressed with him. They think he's sweet. I have yet to post a photo of you though. I want to get the photo of you and I at Joshie's wedding framed. I think that would look nice on my desk but I just haven't taken the time. Maybe I'm afraid of the questions or the things that people will say in response.

Of all the buildings in Washington, the Old Executive Office building formerly known the State, War and Navy Department building, is one of my favorites. It was designed by Alfred Mullett in the Second French Empire style. Every time I work at the Decatur House I stroll down 17th, making my way back through Lafayette Park so I can pass this building. I often think it seems out-of-place in Washington; a lot like me. The truth is, I don't know where I belong. I remember you often felt the same way. Hopefully you are content with your situation now.
Last night as I was sobbing in the bathtub, I am not sure why but this seems to be the place I break down the most, I questioned, "How could God take my mother? How could He do that? Especially when He knows everything?" The thoughts became progressively worse and more selfish, "Why would He do this to me? Does He hate me? Why is He punishing me this way? Why is my life so difficult? Why aren't things working out or at least improving? Why? Why? Why?"
I know its useless to even question. I have rarely received answers before but I have received a sense of peace; a feeling that everything is going to be OK and the universe is progressing as it should. I have not felt that yet and the delay is only generating more frustration and anger. Combine this with my purely selfish nature and you have one angry, bitter, frustrated woman who is tempted to lash out at everyone and everything.
Stephanie called last night and I think I dropped the f-word more times than I ever have, because we both know how much I loathe that word, as I was venting my frustrations to her. I apologized afterward and thanked her for being such a good friend; because she is.
She said a few things last night that made me think about my faith; or as everyone seems to think the lack thereof. Despite all the things I have tried to do right in my life; serving a mission, attending church faithfully, working in the temple, its not enough. It seems my faith is insufficient and perhaps, as several people have suggested, this experience will strengthen my faith.
I honestly feel I am at a crossroads in my life and the scariest part is I am not certain which road I will choose. I know I have not become the woman I imagined myself to be. The life I invision for myself seems out-of-reach and life without you just sucks. Since I can't bring you back sometimes I think, "what's the point?" If things are never going to improve why bother?
Dad's favorite answer seems to be, "you never know what tomorrow will bring." Well, I'll tell you now yesterday didn't bring much and today hasn't either and I seriously doubt tomorrow will be much different. It doesn't matter though. I will get up tomorrow, rain or shine, I will go to work, breathe in and out, even though I could care less about that, come home, make dinner and watch a movie. Thursday I will repeat the same routine all over again.
I hope things are different where you are. That you don't feel pain. That you aren't restless and unhappy. I hope you are surrounded by family and people you love. I just wish I knew; knew you were alright and that you still cared. That you haven't forgotten us and you miss us too.
Until I see you again I will always miss you. I love you Mom.
-Sissy

Today is Easter Sunday; my first Easter Sunday without you. Before you passed away I loved attending church. Sitting in sacrament meeting I felt the quiet, gentle peace the Spirit brings. Listening to Sunday school and RS lessons I often felt fortified and enriched. Things are different now. Instead of feeling peace I feel emptiness. Instead of feeling strengthened I feel forsaken in some ways.
Since you passed everything seems to be about death or finding joy in your afflictions. Joy? Do people honestly believe I should be happy? I lost my Mom and some twenty-one year old kid is telling me I need to rejoice in my afflictions? I don't think so.
Then there's the guilt I feel because I am unable to sympathize with others whose trials seem trivial compared with my own. I just want to stand up in the middle of Sacrament meeting and tell them to grow up and just be grateful they still have both of their parents with them on earth. I know that I am being selfish and critical but I'm just so emotionally unavailable right now I can't even listen to other people complain about anything.
So last Sunday I didn't go to church. Instead I followed my heart and took the train into DC. I returned the keys I accidentally kept to the DH and then sat in Lafayette Park. The miracle of it all was Shawna and Gary called when I was en route to DH. I had misunderstood Shawna when she called on Thursday saying they were coming into town. I thought she meant the following weekend but I was wrong. She said they were in town that very day and wanted to walk around the monuments. I told her I was already in DC and they could meet me at the Smithsonian Castle gardens.
I can't even describe to you what a miracle it was she called me. I had been thinking, since receiving her initial call on Thursday, how wonderful it would be to see them that weekend. When she called and said they wanted to spend time with me and wanted to walk around DC I was grateful and actually excited.
Mom, it was the perfect Sunday. We walked, talked, cried, laughed, and hugged for four hours. It was exactly what I needed. I felt more peace and greater hope with them than I have felt after attending church since January 30th. I could freely express my feelings and they totally understood. They didn't try to placate me by saying things like, "now your mother is your own personal angel or now she can be with you all the time." Instead they just listened and understood, which is exactly what I need most. I need to surround myself with people who have experienced loss and who have survived the hell that follows, because that is exactly what it feels like; hell.
After walking for awhile we decided to eat dinner at The Old Tabbard Inn. Eve had taken me there last winter and I loved it. The atmosphere is so cozy and intimate. Perfect restaurant for a couple who's been dating for awhile. I wouldn't recommend it for a first date. Anyway, I'm not sure why but sitting there in the upper dining room there was a moment that I felt we weren't alone. I didn't feel you but I felt someone was very happy we were there together. Feeling that made me happy too. I didn't share that with Shawna and Gary. Sometimes I think I am too open about my feelings. I think I often share things with people who don't really care or don't really believe me. Not that Shawna and Gary wouldn't but other people I have shared intimate feelings or thoughts with have not been receptive and at times even critical. I guess I've learned that not everything is meant to be shared.
I am not sure if I told you this but Shawna reminds me of you. She's fun and loves to do and see things. Like you she wears a 7 1/2 shoe so we can exchange shoes, which we did last Sunday. I let her wear my tennis shoes because hers weren't as comfortable. I also noticed one of her eyebrows is like yours. Something I hadn't noticed until last Sunday. Being with her, in a strange way, made me feel closer to you. I just regret they live so far away and I can't see them more often.
This morning I have been trying to remember past Easter Sundays. I remember shopping for Easter baskets, getting that stupid green plastic grass everywhere, dyeing eggs, wearing my Easter dress to church, how Dad would buy you a corsage for church, and coming home to Easter dinner, which was usually something you had left cooking in the crock pot. I miss the packages you sent me when I went to school filled with Easter candy and Easter bunnies or chickies. Do you remember the lamb I bought you one year for Easter? You used to keep it on your dresser and we called it Lambie. I need to find him when I go home and finish sorting through your things.
I am sure I haven't told you, although you probably already know, but Dad found George. He's bringing him up this week, along with your blankets and the corn doll you bought in New Mexico. If I don't go to MS I will probably pack it up and go home for awhile. I know Dad could use some help around the house and Josh tells me every time we talk I need to be near family. I guess he's right. I'm just afraid. Which sounds ridiculous but I am. Afraid of what I may become of what I may be tempted to do if I move back; give up.
On this Easter Sunday I don't expect miracles or packages. No one sent me packages except you. I don't expect to feel peace at church and I probably won't join Scott for dinner. To be honest, I don't really want to remember its Easter. I hope in time this will change. That gratitude will fill the void and memories will be enough.
Although I have been scanning a lot of photos, I wasn't able to find one of us on this holiday. I did find a few of your family taken the year before you were born; Easter 1955. I included a photo of your Dad, Great Uncle Blair, Dennis and Danny for you. Its strange to think you are with most of the people in the photo today; Grandpa, "Grandpa" Blair and Dennis. I hope wherever you are you are at peace.
Love you-
Sissy

I am not sure if you saw this movie before you left us but I think you would have enjoyed it. It's about a child music prodigy who was abandoned at birth unknowingly by his mother (Kerri Russell). Some of the music, not all, is beautiful. I think you would have enjoyed that too.

The day before I left Kentucky, Joshie, Lauren and I were sorting through your things and found a few of your old report cards from elementary school. I was not surprised to find you did well in english. You were always a voracious reader and encouraged Joshie and I to follow your example.

You did not do well in math, in that regard I am a lot like you as well, but your near perfect grades in music surprised Joshua and I, although really, it shouldn't have.



You filled our lives with music. We always played music in the car; music always filled our home. When Joshie decided to abandon sports for music you never discouraged him. Whenever I visit Josh and Lauren music is always playing the background. I often listen to music in the evening and especially in my car or while cleaning. I couldn't imagine my life without it.

You enjoyed the best music too. Classic rock, classical, pop rock, disco, folk, country, or bluegrass, you tried to expose us to good music. Music that was cool and happy and fun. Steve Miller, Lynard Skynard, Jefferson Airplane, Bread, Anne Murray, Juice Newton, Dan Seals, Bob Seager, Blondie, Abba, Bee Gees, Carol King, you name it. These names were as familiar to us as those of family members. Thank you for teaching us to appreciate good music.


Music is a powerful entity. It can invoke powerful emotions like hate, envy, revenge, or empathy, gratitude, reverence and love. The couple in the movie were united by their love of music and I understand that. I think its very important for lovers to be more compatible than not and share at least one thing they are both passionate about. I don't think I have met anyone like that. Perhaps when I do he will be "the one." Most men I meet don't even know what historic preservation is, let alone take an interest in it.

One of the aspects I appreciated most about Louis and Lyla's relationship was their reverence for one another. You can feel it in the way he takes her hand. In the way they kiss for the first time. His actions and reactions to Lyla are not rushed or fueled by uncontrollable passion. Rather his actions seem totally motivated by a sense of wonder and awe. I have never had a man take my hand the way Louis takes Lyla's but I want that. I want to experience that at least once before I die. I want a man to communicate with me without speaking. I want to look at a man and know what he's thinking or feeling without him having to say a word.

Is that what it is like where you are? I have been reading a lot about NDEs and that is what most of the accounts say. People communicate with their minds or through feelings. What would that be like? Perhaps its similar to the way the Holy Ghost communicates to us? Through impressions and feelings. I have such a difficult time listening and more often than not I misinterpret his direction...Is that how you will communicate with me now? By invoking memories or planting thoughts in my mind?

Many people I have spoken to say their loved ones have visited them in dreams. Although it doesn't compensate for having you here with us to talk to and to hold, I really wish you would come to me. I just want to know you are OK, that you are happy and that you haven't forgotten us.

Shawna said you could never forget us because family is the most important unit in Heavenly Father's plan. I know she is right but I still want to feel you near. If others can have dreams about their loved ones, shouldn't I be able to? What is the criteria one has to meet or how long must I wait before I can have that opportunity? Months? Years? I am not sure I can wait that long. I don't want to wait that long.

I love you and miss you and I am sorry I have not written more. I have been trying to fill my evenings with close friends and loved ones. Some evenings are better than others. Sunday and Monday evening were not good. Sleep is sporadic and work is difficult at times, especially when other women in the office talk about or to their mothers.

My only comfort is the hope that one day we will never be separated ever again. Not by death not by anything. Until then, I hope wherever you are you can hear music.

Love you-
Sissy