Dear Mom,
I know I haven't exactly been doing thing you would normally approve of. I know I have been taking a lot of risks. I know I have been making a lot of mistakes. I know I have begun to burn bridges that I have had for way too long. Ones you were able to see, and some completely new ones since you've been gone.
I know even when you were here, I was barely ever there for you. It was hard. It hurt. It still does.
I'm sorry if your son has turned into a failure. I'm trying. I'm honestly putting in an effort. I am just doing everything I can to keep everything together. I try day in and day out. Everyday since you've been gone has just been another fight. Everyday gets harder and harder to wake up.
Five years now. Almost a fourth of my life. I don't know why you had to go. I never understood that. I wake up in the middle of the night sometimes crying. Wanting nothing more than to just see you. Wanting nothing more than to just know you approve.
We all make mistakes. We all fuck up. You taught me that. I just don't know if the mistakes I am making are the right ones. I know, I never have made much sense before. I suppose somethings never change.
The last Mother's day gift I was ever able to give you was the emotional strength to carry you into the ground. To let you go. The truth is, I never let you go. I can't. It just seems to get harder sometimes.
Sure, I have carried on with my life, but that doesn't mean that everyhere and there, I cry. It doesn't mean that every so often, I hurt. I scream out and just wonder to myself, Why Me? What did I do? Why do I always seem to be a target?
Even sitting here now and trying to have the strength to keep myself together while I just say something, isn't the easiest.
Even if you aren't here though, you are still my mother. I still love you regardless. I still want to make you proud, make you feel honored to be able to say that I am your son. That you molded me into who I am.
Dear Mom, Im sorry. Im sorry everything was taken from you at such a young age. Im sorry you weren't given more time. Im sorry you arent here today.
Happy Mother's Day.
Sheila Christine Roberson
10/8/59-5/12/99
"...and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest."
I know I haven't exactly been doing thing you would normally approve of. I know I have been taking a lot of risks. I know I have been making a lot of mistakes. I know I have begun to burn bridges that I have had for way too long. Ones you were able to see, and some completely new ones since you've been gone.
I know even when you were here, I was barely ever there for you. It was hard. It hurt. It still does.
I'm sorry if your son has turned into a failure. I'm trying. I'm honestly putting in an effort. I am just doing everything I can to keep everything together. I try day in and day out. Everyday since you've been gone has just been another fight. Everyday gets harder and harder to wake up.
Five years now. Almost a fourth of my life. I don't know why you had to go. I never understood that. I wake up in the middle of the night sometimes crying. Wanting nothing more than to just see you. Wanting nothing more than to just know you approve.
We all make mistakes. We all fuck up. You taught me that. I just don't know if the mistakes I am making are the right ones. I know, I never have made much sense before. I suppose somethings never change.
The last Mother's day gift I was ever able to give you was the emotional strength to carry you into the ground. To let you go. The truth is, I never let you go. I can't. It just seems to get harder sometimes.
Sure, I have carried on with my life, but that doesn't mean that everyhere and there, I cry. It doesn't mean that every so often, I hurt. I scream out and just wonder to myself, Why Me? What did I do? Why do I always seem to be a target?
Even sitting here now and trying to have the strength to keep myself together while I just say something, isn't the easiest.
Even if you aren't here though, you are still my mother. I still love you regardless. I still want to make you proud, make you feel honored to be able to say that I am your son. That you molded me into who I am.
Dear Mom, Im sorry. Im sorry everything was taken from you at such a young age. Im sorry you weren't given more time. Im sorry you arent here today.
Happy Mother's Day.
Sheila Christine Roberson
10/8/59-5/12/99
"...and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest."