Dear Mom,
I had a dream about you the other night. Dad, Darren and I met you for lunch. In the dream we were able to see you and tell you about our lives but you weren't able to participate in our lives. You couldn't see the kids...only hear about them. I asked you if dad had told you about his new puppy, Chipper, and I started to tell you how cute he was and how much fun the kids were having with him, and you started to cry. We held each other and cried and cried. We were both so sad about everything we were missing out on....you, being able to participate in our lives, and me, the comfort and warmth of having you here to guide me. The dream couldn't have reflected my true emotions more accurately.

But mom, I am feeling much better these days. I am just now realizing how depressed I was that first year. I had always thought depression meant that you were crying all the time and unable to get out of bed and function, and that was not me. But, until recently I didn't realize how truly numb I was for so long. I had been unable to really live...I was just going through the motions in a fog, a vacant state. For the first time since you died and I am feeling a spark again. I am excited about the different activities and projects I have going on for the kids and myself. I can wake up and plan fun things to do for the family and feel a sense of excitement and anticipation...it feels good to have that feeling again.

Christmas was better than expected, though admittedly my expectations were pretty low. First Christmas at home without you...but it was ok. Dad and Darren came over. We had your famous eggs benedict for breakfast. Bill cooked an amazing Christmas dinner. Santa brought a trampoline and we watched the movie A Christmas Story. We left the next day and went to a little resort on the Chesapeake Bay for a night that was great. I think it's a Christmas tradition we can build on...never the same but something that I can handle. As the kids get older and I have more time, we can expand and add some of your details that made it extra special.

We spent the blizzard at your house with Dad. The kids couldn't have been more excited...sledding, playing in the snow, Chipper getting lost in the piles of snow. Good times...I imagined you sledding down the hill with the kids, or sitting in your chair in the sunroom with a cup of tea watching them and laughing and talking about how much fun it was to see them out there.

I never, ever thought I could reconcile their lost time with you...the idea of them growing up without you was so painful for me for so long. But it's amazing how your mind can come to accept the reality of situation that is out of your control. I still wish so badly they could grow up with you as a daily part of their lives, but as each month passes the pain of that reality is replaced with acceptance. An acceptance that has allowed me to realize they will have wonderful childhoods filled with a lot of happiness that you have given them indirectly.

Thanks Mom.

I love you,
Amy