An Open Letter to My Mom 14 Years After Her Death

Woman on the beach watching the horizon
Woman on the beach watching the horizon


It's been 5,000 days since you left us. But, who's counting?

There isn't a day that you don't cross my mind. Some days you're just my mom who got cancer, fought so hard to live, but died before I was able to know everything about you. Then there are days that your voice is all I hear. It's my voice. Your laugh? It's mine too. I hear it in the morning when I'm snuggling your grand babies. In the afternoon, when the day has been long, your voice of frustrations and exhaustion are mine. But at night, when I lay my head to sleep, your voice is what calms me. I replay our last conversations in my head. I miss your voice, mom.

It's been 714 weeks since you left us. But, who's counting?

After you were gone I would see you everywhere. I swear I once saw you walking though campus when I was in college. I followed you until you disappeared. I sat outside my dorm every day for the next week waiting for you to pass again. You didn't. A few years later I worked with a woman who had your hands. I told her that those were your hands. And she let me hold them for a bit. It was nice to hold your hand again.

It's been 164 months since you left us. But, who's counting?

I made so many mistakes after you died. I needed your guidance to push me in the right direction. I strayed. I disappointed. I did almost everything wrong. But those misguided steps led me to Matt, my husband. He's pretty great, Mom. I know you would love him just as much as I do. And those crooked steps that led me to love also made me a mother. Triplets, mom. Three beautiful, smart, amazing, miracle babies. I finally did something correct. Even though it took some time, your guidance did push me in the right direction.


It's been almost 14 years since you left us. I'm counting.

In those years I've grown from a 21-year-old college student who had no idea how to move on after her mother died to a 35-year-old wife and mother who created a way to live without you. It seems I've lived two lives -- with you and without. I had an amazing childhood thanks to you. You gave me so many happy memories. When you died I had so many regrets, though. Those sorrows haunted me for so long. I lost myself. My life was so hard without you.

In a perfect world you would be here with us. You'd be spending you weekends spoiling your FIVE grandchildren. You would be helping pick pumpkins instead of us picking flowers to freshen your grave. But life isn't perfect. I would give anything to have breast cancer never even be a part of our lives. But is was. It is. Everything happens for a reason, right? All those wrong turns led me here, mom. I imagine you in Heaven silently leading me down the right road. There were an abundance of bumps along the way, but I fought my way over them and made it though. I've finally made it, mom. I am beyond happy. Thank you.


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Angela is the mother of 3 year old triplets. She spends her days loving and sometimes loathing the experience of raising multiples. She will tell you that her life is chaotic and she often takes it for granted, but at the end of the day she thanks God for all he has given her.

Angela started blogging several years ago before she had children, but unfortunately stopped when she became pregnant. She wanted to begin again once the babies were here, but quickly found out that her time was not her own. Now that Angela is back into the blogging world she absolutely loves sharing her life with triplets on her blog The Triplet Farm - all the tears and tantrums and especially all love and laughter that comes with raising multiples! She can also be found on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.