A time to reflect

Dear Mama,
Three years ago today I had the worse day of my entire life.
Three years ago today I awoke to the news that you were in the emergency room.
Three years ago today I started my day to a dreaded cell phone call that you had tumors on your brain and I was to "be strong".
Three years ago today I told my husband to get me out of that house and I never felt comfortable living there again.
Three years ago today was the first Christmas Eve I didn't get to spend with you. And we didn't even get to talk.
Three years ago I was expecting the arrival of my baby girl at any moment and I didn't even want her to come.
Three years ago today I couldn't eat and I sat in a daze as everyone opened their gifts.
Three years ago today I knew that the next Christmas I wouldn't spend with you either.
Three years ago today I began a two year long downward journey into insanity, depression, and fear unlike any I'd ever experienced in the past.
Three years ago today I no longer had hope and I felt like my life was over.
Three years ago today I wanted to be at the hospital, climb into bed with you and hold you as much as I couldn't stand the thought of hearing your voice or seeing your face ever again.
Three years ago today I kept waiting to wake up from the nightmare.

Today I awoke to the terror of a nightmare involving you (and my asking you to not be so grumpy), a next door explosion and open windows that needed to be closed due to the giant smoke cloud, puppies, strange poetry (about taking a "sit" instead of taking a "stand"), and letters from high school friends.
Today I awoke to thunder, loud rain, and wind chimes. Only not the wind chimes that dad made because, despite what he says, they do dry rot and fall apart over time. Heh.
Today I went back to bed with my two precious angels, listened to their highly creative stories about pink fairies and giant robots and started my day over again.
Today I started my day sandwiched between a special boy and a special girl, giving many thanks to the Lord for giving me the strength to land myself here, amidst emotional stability.
Today I didn't cry, didn't feel hopeless, but I still missed you.
Today I realized that my journey out of depression was difficult but worth it in the long run.
Today I feel focused on the important aspects of the holiday and not so much on what happened three years ago. But I still need to write this.
Today I don't feel alone now that my kids are older and able to talk to me and give me support.
Today I will go to church and start another new tradition with my kids... one that is very important to me.

Today I would imagine that you are celebrating in heaven and that makes me happy, even though I feel really distant from you now that I'm a new person. You wouldn't even know me.

Merry Christmas, Mama.