Letter to Orma Carls on Mother's Day 2006

Hi Mom,

You and Amie seemed very happy to be together last time I saw you. I hope you like the Mardi Gras beads I sent you for Mother's day this year. It has been a very strange time since last May, for me and for you. Too bad there is not room by your bed for the yellow roses I usually send. Will you miss them or had they become a burden?

Wish you could tell me today, what it is like for you, in a way I could understand and remember later when I am sitting in a chair with a little belt on that is connected to an alarm. Hopefully, someone always notices when I try to wander off, away from home and caregivers and my special chair.

Last visit you talked to me about your mother and the house where you grew up. I think that is what you remember and where you want to be. I hope you feel safe where you are now, and cared for now, like you felt safe and cared for in your mother's arms.

A lifetime has passed for me, since I felt safe and warm in your arms. 54 years to be exact. I was one month old by your first Mother's Day. Your third baby, alive and perfect and healthy; all sweetness and potential; your number one daughter.

You were young, you married and settled down. You did everything you could to make your new family happy with you. Was there ever enough? Is this your reward? There were few rewards during all those years of caring for us, and caring for dad, sewing special dresses and knitting sweaters. I remember you taught me how to do those crafts.

So many things I still don't understand. We were always worlds apart. I felt like a changeling. Still do. Sometimes I've found older people to learn from but rarely the gift of infinite love and generosity as I have poured into my relationship with my own daughter.

You and I were together a very short time; we have been walking away from each other much longer than that. It is a bittersweet moment when I see you or think about you. I feel the loss and I mourn for what might have been our lives and our relationship if somehow we were different. And the times were different. Like today...what if we could be together as if it were 1952 again?

But my life has already happened. Your life continued on your chosen course. I think of you and about our lives, every Mother's day. I'll try with renewed commitment to be a good girl, a daughter for you to be proud of, and the best Mother I can be. I love you. I hope you hear me say that to you, somewhere in your memory.