Dear Mom,

One year ago your body left us. It seemed like the whole world fell apart in grief with us. So much happened this year and not a day went by that I didn’t want to reach for you.

…like when Dad got this book in the mail from the Anatomical Education Program at IU’s School of Medicine. It was written by medical students that worked with your body, thanking us for the donation of YOU. It has poems, drawings, and very meaningful letters of appreciation. And apparently there’s this tradition where the medical students light candles for each donor at the University of Notre Dame Grotto in South Bend and read the poem “O’ Captain, My Captain.” I immediately took pictures of this book and sent them to your sisters. It makes us all feel especially proud that you continued to teach in death. 

…or like when the boys played on their first real soccer team this fall and I made Symeon coach Samson’s team. They totally dominated mom! Both were leading scorers and their teams won their championship matches. It was such a delight in such a shitty year. You would have the best ideas for how to teach Desmond humility and sportsmanship lol! 

…or when we finished the Mandalorian. What an ending! You would’ve loved it and cried like I did. Pat and I texted each other for 2 days straight about it. Dad and Ben are behind and haven’t finished the 2nd season so they are still losers. We made baby Yoda cookies like you told us to by cutting off the heads of angels. Still funny. And cousin Tracey bought the boys these limited edition Adidas Star Wars sneakers that you would love. They are SO cool. 

…or the hundreds of times per week that I see something online and want to share it with you. Sometimes I send them to Ben and Pat and sometimes people send them to me… 

…and the week we got together with Dad and Ben’s fam over Christmas break in Cape Cod. We couldn’t do much but go see the beach and play together but it was totally worth it. Dad made us these awesome foot stools. Kids had plenty of naked and dress-up time and Dad and I got lobster. It seems so weird doing this stuff without you. Dad has a hard time around the kids because they make him happy, which makes him miss you, which makes us all sad. It’s a weird little cycle that’s gone on all year. 

…and about Dad. I know you must be proud of him. He’s seen some really dark days that were scary for us all, but most of the time he’s hanging in there. He’s learning to cook more meals, taking care of his health like you’d want him to, and staying active as you can be in a pandemic. He’s been volunteering at the Food Bank and even mailed us handwritten letters about how he feels. He drove through Rhode Island this year, so Dad has now been to every single one of the lower 48 states! When I asked him what he was going to do today, the anniversary of your passing, he replied “it doesn’t really matter, a month, two months, six months…it’s been a year all the same.” What he means in Dad-speak is that his grief is endless. You took up so much space in our lives mom, we won’t ever get over missing you. 

…People have checked on us in various ways- cards, messages, facebook posts. It has been tough that we can’t really be together with anyone. We had no idea the year would be THIS hard. On your birthday Mary Gorndt sent me a beautiful bouquet of sunflowers and this morning Kathy sent me daisies. They are beautiful, bright and loud just like you. Patti sent me a sweet book with daily affirmations by Mother Theresa this week. When I thanked her for the book she replied, “You are a beautiful example of pure love.” Isn’t that the best? 

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…I had this idea to create a neighborhood Free Little Library for you. When Dad came to visit I pulled him into my idea and we started this project. It took us a few months to finish. Now it is done and we are waiting on the ground to thaw before we install it in the neighborhood. We recycled a cabinet that Symeon’s dad made before he died so this is in his memory too. We found some old glass windows in the basement and turned them into the library door. The boys helped break glass, sand and paint. We got it registered so now anyone will be able to look it up on a map and find it. I can’t wait to see neighbors borrowing books! Do you love it?  

….We are closing out this year with a new president and new vice-president. While watching the inauguration Samson took the oath with Kamala and I cried. You would’ve too. It was such a violent, grief stricken year for this country and I’m trying to remain hopeful about the next few years. There was this poem read by the youth poet laureate, Amanda Gorman, The Hill We Climb. It was wonderful. This is how it started, 

“When day comes, we ask ourselves, where can we find light in this never-ending shade?

The loss we carry. 

A sea we must wade.”

…And this was how it ended,

“For there is always light, if only we’re brave enough to see it.

If only we’re brave enough to be it.”

I miss you mom. So so much that sometimes I can’t breathe and my whole body hurts. I love you. Tonight for “BaBa’s death day” as the boys call it, we are making Mexican food and I will drink some tequila. Cheers to being brave. Thank you for lighting my path. 

Your Anastasia Marie