It's been 8 years today since my mom passed away. At the time, a woman I worked with was telling me that her dad had passed away 5 or 6 years before, she couldn't remember exactly when. That astounded me, because I thought this is a day, an anniversary I'll never forget. But I guess everyone's different. I found this photo strip in a box of things from my dad's house. It's from the Christmas of 1974. I was 5 years old. I think we went to Florida that year to see my grandparents over Christmas break.

I've heaped quite a bit of guilt and regret on myself concerning her death. I should've gone to see her more once I'd moved away from home. I should've been more insistent that she see a different doctor. I shouldn't have moved in with K before we got married. I could go on and on. It's taken a long time, but I think I've finally let most of that go.

Now, when I cry over it (which is still often, especially now that my dad is gone, too, and usually in my car when I'm alone), I miss her. I wish I'd appreciated her more while she was still here. She had her faults, no doubt about that, but she did the best she could. I wish I could take back the horrible things I said over the years, in the heat of arguments (Such as 'You're not my real mother, so you can't tell me what to do!' I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for that one.). I wish she'd been around to see my son born, to have lived close enough to one of her grandchildren to see them regularly and be the kind of grandmother she dreamed of being.

I hope there is a heaven. And I hope I've done enough good things to get there one day. And when I get there, I hope I get to see her again, so I can tell her all these things I didn't take the time to say while she was still with me.

Martha Louise (Schneider) Love

August 16, 1934 - February 28, 1998