I was contemplating whether or not to write this post. You guys don’t need to read something every year on May 9th. Last year was fine, because that was the first year. I will always remember her, in my heart. I don’t need to always share with you, dear reader, right? Maybe just a simple picture of my mother will suffice.

What sucks is, every year from then on out, my mother’s anniversary will always fall nears mother’s day weekend. So as I get the emails, and see commercials on how to make your mother feel special, I get hit with a pang of sadness. No longer will I be ordering flowers or spa packages and planning mother daughter dates with her.

I never shared a picture of her when she was sick. But regardless of how weak she got or how much hair she lost, she always wore a giant smile. And really, that’s all that matters.

It’s been exactly a year now since my mom was taken from us by cancer. As usual, I am in tears as I write this, but I want to share with you how great my mother was. This picture was taken Labor Day weekend 2005. I was 20 years old, in my third year of college and I chose to spend the weekend with my mom at the beach. She was funny, playful and loving. People that know both my mother and I, know how much of my personality was like her. However, since we were both the same in stubbornness and attitudes, there were times where we bumped heads a lot. She was strong, beautiful and outspoken. And I miss her. She wasn’t afraid of anything, not even death. The only thing she really was concerned about was the well being and future of her children. She did everything to make sure we turned out as decent human beings and not a menace to society, regardless of whether not we lived in the hood among the gangs and the drug dealers. I’d like to think we turned out alright.

My parents divorce ended pretty badly, but that doesn’t take away from a great childhood. A lot of you probably wonder what happened to my mom. When she got diagnosed, she kept it very private, only letting very few people know, and let alone see her sick. At the funeral a lot of people showed up, not knowing what happened or why. I explained it in the eulogy, and hoped that people took my words to heart. For those of you that want to know and read it, you can find it here.

I still can’t grasp that she’s physically gone. I still feel as if I can pick up the phone and call/text her. But I can’t. It will never stop hurting, but I will try to get the tears under control. However, today will not be one of those days. What hurts also, is that she passed the day after mother’s day last year. So I will continually be haunted by Mother’s day ads, and reminders that she is gone.

I hope you’re having fun up there, we miss you down here.

Vous me manquez Maman, dans mon coeur pour toujours.