The Journey.

This post will be about my beliefs, faith and religion. You have been forewarned.

I saw a comment from a person about my faith that I found very degrading to me and my religion. It went like this:

(names changed)

"Jayde, your insight is a gift. Mark and I have been talking all morning about why people turn away from the church. It is almost always because they are saddled with the yoke of "acting Christian" instead of being allowed to experience God's grace and letting Him do the leading. We live in the "bible belt" now; wow. Lots of "acting Christian" going on here and it is like being in jail with constant guilt...hey, like being Mormon! Bless you sweetheart. I keep all of you in my prayers."

I find it completely arrogant for someone to post something so terrible about someones faith, and act as if it was nothing. As if the passing comment should just be known by everyone. I was insulted by someone who doesn't even know me as a person and what I've gone through that has strengthened by faith in Christ and his atonement.  


Let's start from the beginning. My mom was very sick from the time I was very young. I helped take care of her and watched as the roller coaster of ups and downs took so much strength from her. She was the best mother anyone could ever have. And I'm not saying this to compete. I'm saying it because it's a fact. I watched her struggle to stay alive, through heart surgeries, watching my dad give her I.V.'s in our living room every night. Watched her struggle to do every day things like get out of bed or even take a bath. But she did. Because she had children to raise and a family to keep together. Before her surgeries, she wouldn't get out of bed for days at a time. But when she did, do you want to know where she went? To church. I remember her coming late to church, but presentable because they gave her a calling in the library that she could handle and be able to go to church, stress free. As soon as she got home she would go straight back to bed because her heart was so weak. 


Do you know what she taught me all those years? That Christ. The Gospel. Faith. Is important. It gives you the power to get through the things that life throws at you. Especially physical hardships. 


Then. After all the battles. After all the strength she put into raising us and trying to make us happy. Her heart couldn't keep her here. When I was seventeen years old I walked into a room as saw my mother on every kind of machine you could think of to keep her alive. But. Her spirit wasn't there. My mother's body lay motionless as all of these machines kept her physical body alive. But not by much. I remember that her skin had started to disintegrate from where my dad would kiss her so much on her forehead. She was retaining water from all of the heart and various surgeries they had done to try and save her life. It wasn't enough. Nothing could have stopped her time. So I held my mothers hand as I watched them turn off all of the machines. All of these key elements that was keeping her alive. I felt her hand go cold in mine as the beeping stopped, as the tears didn't. I watched my mothers life leave this planet. And do you know what? I felt her holding my hand, on the other side. Watching and comforting me. Because she knew how hard it was for me. To know that when I flew back home. She wasn't going to be sitting on the couch watching Gilmore Girls, or laying in her bed shouting to me, "I LOVE YOU!" before I walked out the door to school. She wasn't going to be in the front seat of the car as we went on vacation. And she wasn't going to be there to hold me, love me, kiss me, and watch me get through my own hardships and life. I don't get to come home to her laugh or her smile. Instead. I come home to a quiet house that we built from the money we got from the company that killed her. Instead. I pray that she hears and listens to me instead of being able to call her on the phone. I look at pictures instead of walking upstairs to her sewing or knitting. Instead. I'm alone. 


I am twenty years old now. I have lived without her for two and a half years now and I have learned to rely on someone that always knows how I feel and what I'm going through. And his name is Jesus Christ. My brother. My Savior. My friend. 


I have seen friends. Best friends. Turn their backs on him. Heck. I even have. When all I wanted to do was be mad at him for what he had put me through. And do you know what that did? It made my life miserable. I went to a church with my two best friends in high school, and this "man" convinced all of these people that what I believed. What everyone that is a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints believes, is a lie. That our feelings and beliefs are all wrong. That we know nothing. That as this lady said I was in "jail and constant guilt." What kind of person thrives and lives on hurting others and telling them that what they know and believe is a lie? That everything they have gone through and fought through is nothing because "their Christ" isn't real. That what I, as a Christian, believe is nothing compared to what these people know. What kind of terrible person can do that to another person? A fellow Christian? My heart broke for these people that had no idea that as LDS members we believe the same things you do just have another book from Christ that we learn from. I felt like I was being stabbed because this was so UN-Christian like to say hurtful things about another religion simply because they could. I lost my respect for that "man" that day. I couldn't believe that he was so hateful towards people. My heart hurt because what he thought he knew.. Was a complete lie that he had so carefully intertwined.

He hadn't taken the time to know us, especially us each individually. And that in fact I am just a person. Striving to be a better by believing and loving Christ. That I believe in the Bible as far as it is translated correctly. That I believe that life is so much greater and simpler when you know you have a brother that died for you to be happy and free. That you are loved by our Heavenly Father that watches over you and wants the best for you. That you as a person, can get through life by just having faith and believing in Him.


I just sent the man that I love out on a mission for two years. He will be going to Madagascar and I won't be able to see or hear his voice and I will get a written letter hopefully once every 2-3 weeks. He will be serving the Lord and helping those people to find happiness and love in Christ. Now, I could be completely heart broken. I could be mad that he sent Samuel out to a place that is unknown and potentially dangerous. I could be upset at God for everything he has watched me go through and then send the man that I want to spend eternity with out of my life for two years. But. I'm not. Because I know for a fact that Samuel is an amazing man. That he will help and strengthen these people. I know he will serve the Lord with all of his power and strength. His heart is in it for the good, and he is so happy. How could I be angry knowing that the man I am in love with is happy and doing what he and the Lord wants him to do? How could I harden my heart against my Heavenly Father when I know that what out church believes in is true and right. How could I possibly turn away from my brother who died for me so could  help me through this? I can't. As it turns out. I am completely happy. I am so grateful that I have watched Samuel turn into this strong man. That I was apart of his life as he chose to do this selfless act of righteousness. I am happier now than I have ever been in my life, because God gave me strength to let the man I love go, to serve Him. I am so completely beyond joy that I have watched Samuel give up these two years of his life to become the man that God wants him to be. My faith in Christ has grown stronger by letting Samuel go. By watching all of these amazingly wonderful things that he has done to grow and help others. I couldn't imagine a better way to spend the next two years of my life watching my best friend, the man I love, be a servant of the Lord. 


I believe in Christ. 


I believe in Christ—my Lord, my God!
My feet he plants on gospel sod.
I’ll worship him with all my might;
He is the source of truth and light.
I believe in Christ; he ransoms me.
From Satan’s grasp he sets me free,
And I shall live with joy and love
In his eternal courts above.

I believe in Christ; he stands supreme!
From him I’ll gain my fondest dream;
And while I strive through grief and pain,
His voice is heard: “Ye shall obtain.”
I believe in Christ; so come what may,
With him I’ll stand in that great day
When on this earth he comes again
To rule among the sons of men.

I could stop here. I could leave good enough alone. But I have a few more things. As a daughter of a man that lost his wife. His true love and light. You would think that I would have watched him break down. That his love and light in life would slowly fade. But I didn't. I saw the complete opposite. I watched as my father grew to be ten times the man that you ever could think someone could be after losing a spouse. I watched him fulfill his callings in church with all of his strength and love in Christ. I watched as my father grew to know that much more about the atonement of Christ and that our Lord died for him to get him through one of the hardest things life could give. I watched as he eventually found another woman that stood for the same things and made him an even better man. Helped him grow and learn. I watched as their relationship started until now when you know they love each other and would do anything to make the other happy, that it was based on the Lord. It was based on the mutual understanding of Christ and his eternal atonement. I saw as my father became an even better man with a strong woman by his side that helped him and loved him with everything they both had gone through. I watch them study their lessons together and go to church. Go to the temple and live by the standards of the Gospel. I watched as this amazing woman loved me for the very person I was. She loved be despite my brutal honestly and sometimes vulgarity (that I get from my mother.) I am blessed to have someone so faithful and strong be apart of my fathers and my own life. She has loved my entire family for everything we've gone through and laughed and loved the stories that we still tell her about our mother. She helped us all to be a better family after losing the heart of it. She loves us all no matter where we are in life and what we're doing. No one, could have ever asked for a person so loving and full of light to help our family and our father. I love you Merania and am thankful for everything you do for for not just my father, but for me and my siblings as well.

I am no where near perfect. But through faith in Christ and my beliefs. I will be with my mother for eternity. I will get through these two years without the man that I love. And I will watch as my family is strengthened through the Gospel. There is no greater blessing than knowing you are loved, protected and watched over by a Brother who died for you, a Father who guides you and a mother who always listens to you.

"May I share with you a formula that in my judgment will help you and help me to journey well through mortality... First, fill your mind with truth; second, fill your life with service; and third, fill your heart with love."
                                       -Thomas S. Monson

Do You Remember?

Act II

   Beverly: He didn't want anything from you.

   Mark: But before he went, I lifted his wallet.

   Beverly: I always warned him not to talk to strangers.

   Mark: It doesn't matter, because the next day I returned it. I don't know why. I just did. And that's how I got to know him. I got interested in what he was doing... which as it turns out was nothing. But he was doing it so well. He gave me a room. I could use it whenever I wanted. I started reading again... I thought to myself, my God, I could really do something. Salvation! We talked and talked endlessly... word equals idea equals action equals change equals time equals freedom equals... well, who knows? But the point is... I don't know what the point is. What am I talking about?

   Beverly: Dead people.

   Mark: Exactly! I mean, exactly!

   Beverly: Exactly what?

   Mark: I mean it's not enough! Ten thousand pages of paragraphed garbage... it's just words. We are dying here, lady. That's what it's about. Brian looks at me and I can see it in his eyes. One stone slab smack in the face, the rug is coming out from under, the light is going out. You can do the pills and the syringes and the "let's play games" with the cotton swabs and x-rays, but it's not going to change it. You can wipe up the mucous and the blood and the piss and the excrement, you can burn the sheets and boil his clothes, but it's still there. You can smell it on him. You can smell it on me. It soaks into your hands when you touch him. It gets in your blood. It doesn't go away. It stays with you. Inside every word, every touch, every move, every day, every night, it lies down with you and gets in between you. It's sick and putrid and soft and rotten and it is killing me.

   Beverly: It's killing him, too. 

   Mark: That's right, lady. And some of us have to watch it. Some of us have to live with it and clean up after it. I mean, you can waltz in and out of here like a freakin Christmas tree if you want to, but some of us are staying. Some of us are here for the duration. And it is not easy.

   Beverly: And some of us wouldn't mind changing places with you at all. 

   Mark: And some of us just don't care anymore.

   Beverly: What?

   Mark: Some of us just don't care.

   Beverly: You're cute, Mark. But next to me, you are the most selfish son of a bitch, I've ever met.

   Mark: Oh, wonderful! That's what I needed. Yes, sir. That's just what I needed.

   Beverly: You're welcome.

   Mark: Look, don't you think it's time you picked up all your little screwing trophies and went home?

   Beverly: Past time... Way past time. The sign goes up and I can see 'useless' printed all over it. Let me tell you something, as one whore to another- what you do with your ass is your business. You can drag it through every gutter from here to Morocco. You can run it up a flagpole, paint it blue or cut it off if you feel like it. I don't care. I'll even show you the best way to do it. That's the kind of person I am. But Brian is different. Because Brian is stupid. Because Brian is blind. Because Brian doesn't know where you come from or who you come from or why or how or even what you are coming to. Because Brian happens to need you. And if that is not enough for you, then you get yourself out of his life- fast. You take your delicate sensibilities and your fears and your disgust, if that's all you feel, and you pack up and you get out.

   Mark: That simple, huh?

   Beverly: Yes. That simple. A postcard at Christmas, a telegram for his birthday, and maybe a phone call every few years... if he lives. But only when it gets really bad. When the money and the time and the people are all running out faster than you care to count, and the reasons don't sound as good as they used to and you don't remember anymore why... why you walked out on the one person who said yes, you do what you have to because I love you. And you can't remember anymore what it was you thought you had to do or who the hell you thought you were that was so damn important that you couldn't hang around long enough to say goodbye or to find out what you were saying goodbye to... Then you phone, because you need to know that somewhere, for no good reason, there is one poor stupid deluded human being who smells and rots and dies and still believes in you. One human being who cares. My God, why isn't that ever enough?

   Mark: You want an answer to that?

   Beverly: No. I want you to get yourself together or get yourself away from him.

   Mark: Just leave?

   Beverly: Yes.

   Mark: I can't.

   Beverly: Why not?

   Mark: He's dying.

   Beverly: He doesn't need you for that. He can do it all by himself. You're young, intelligent, not bad looking... probably good trade on slow market. Why hang around?

   Mark: I can't leave him.

   Beverly: Why not?

   Mark: I owe him.

   Beverly: What? Pity?

   Mark: No.

   Beverly: Then what? What?! You don't make sense, Mark. I mean, what's in it for you? 

   Mark: Nothing's in it for me.

   Beverly: You said it yourself. He's just a tired, sick old man...

   Mark: I didn't say that.

   Beverly: ... A tired old trick with some phony ideas that don't hold piss, let alone water...

   Mark: What?

   Beverly: A broken down sewer, that's all he is.

   Mark: I didn't say that...

   Beverly: Yes, you did. Garbage. You don't need that. You don't need to dirty your hands with that kind of rotten, putrid filth. Unless of course you need the money. What does he do- pay you by the month? Or does it depend on how much you put out?

(Mark suddenly hits her in the face. Beverly quickly slaps him back- hard. Mark is stunned. Beverly hits him again. Mark still doesn't move. Almost as if he didn't feel anything. Beverly continues to slap his face until he connects with the pain. He lets out a pure cry and breaks down.)

   Mark: I don't want him to die. I don't... Please... (Beverly puts her arms around him.) I don't want him to die.

   Beverly: It's alright.

                It's alright.

                It's alright. It's alright.

                (Gently.) Hopes, baby. That's what you got. A bad case of the hopes. They sneaked up on you when you weren't looking. You think maybe it's not gonna happen. You think maybe you'll find someway out. Some word that's still alive, some word that will make it all different... Maybe, maybe, maybe...

                Please, baby. Just one favor you owe him. Don't hurt him. Don't hurt him with your hope. (Mark pulls away from Beverly) He needs somebody. (Mark doesn't answer) Yeah. That was my answer, too. (She gathers her things.) 'Bye, baby. 

   Mark: Wait...

   Beverly: No, no. Another two minutes and I'll be dancing you all over the floor.

   Mark: I might not mind.

   Beverly: Might not mind? You'd love it. 

   Mark: All right. I'd love it.

   Beverly: Tell Brian goodbye for me.

   Mark: Don't you want to see him?

   Beverly: No. I've got a plane to catch. I want to get to Hawaii before the hangover hits me. (She stops and turns to look at Mark) It's funny, he always makes the same mistake. He always cares about the wrong people.

The Puzzle.

Today. I look back at this past year and marvel at how I am thankful for so many things.

I am thankful for my family. I love everyone of their bright and unique personalities. I am thankful that they love and support me. No matter what. I am grateful that they know me so well and believe in me. I am thankful for the presents they give me. Mostly. Just being around me. And wanting to spend time with me. I am so loved. And am so blessed. I have been given so much in my life. Especially today. Especially in the last year. I am grateful that my mother spent the day with us, and that I was able to feel her spirit and her love around all of us. I am thankful for the way that she inspires me. And loves me. Even if it's on the other side of the veil. I am thankful for the fact that we are able to stay together and help each other through such a difficult time. I am thankful for the love that is in our home. And for the Gospel that we all know to be true. That seals us together. As a forever family.

I am thankful for my friends. The few that have stuck by me. Taken the bullets and the pain with me. And stood up for me. I am grateful for the way they make me laugh. For the way they encourage me and help me through everything that has happened. I am thankful that they let me shine the way I was always supposed to. I love them. And wouldn't be who I am today without them. Without their love. And encouragement.

I am thankful for the friends I once had. When I used to be apart of something that was. Special. When we thought that love was enough to keep us together. When we decided it would be a good idea to go to college together. Not knowing that it would tear me away from them. They taught me a lot about being my own person. And not forcing people to be apart of something they didn't want to be. They taught me that it was the right thing to do. To walk away. To keep the rest of the things unsaid. Locked away. They taught me that people change. For better or worse. And that some people can't stay friends forever. I learned a lot about loving unconditionally. But also about letting go. Cutting ties. And burning bridges. They taught me that some things are better left unsaid. And that no one is perfect. They taught me not to expect anything. And mostly. To do what's right for me. And to not please anyone. But myself.

I am thankful for my boyfriend. Who is also my best friend. Who loves me unconditionally. Even if I'm unreasonable. Even if I get mad. Even if I am a little crazy. He thinks I'm beautiful the way I am. And wouldn't change a thing. He treats me the way that men should treat a woman. He's wonderful. He's sweet. He's handsome. He has an amazing spirit. I can't even explain how much he has taught me about patience. And loving unconditionally. He's true to God and doesn't change when he's around older, "cooler" people. He's the same person all year round. With a few changes. For the better. As we get older. He's been my best friend since freshman year in High School. We've had some rough patches and fights. But. We continue to fix and compromise. Knowing that it's all for the best. Knowing that God. Has a plan.

I am thankful for the trials I've had. Graduating. Depression. Insomnia. College. They have taught me a lot about who I'm supposed to be. Everyone says that your first semester of college is the hardest. I don't think anyone could have prepared me for what was to happen. What I was going to do. Who I was going to lose. I don't think I would have believed it had someone told me. And someone did. I tried with my whole heart and might to keep it together. But. Maybe that's why things fall apart. Why some people are only in your life for a certain amount of time. It's so you can grow. So they walk in as a new piece of the puzzle. They help you find other pieces. And soon. They've served their purpose. And all you're left with are memories of the way people used to be. How they used to be apart of your puzzle. But they just don't fit anymore. And that's okay. That's why we have family. Because they will always be apart of your life. Always fit in. No matter who else falls away. Walks away. Runs away.

I'll always have my family. The pieces of my puzzle that will forever be. Apart of me.

Take A Bullet.

There's a song called Grenade by Bruno Mars. It's pretty self-explanatory.

'I'd catch a grenade for you.
Throw my hand on a blade for you.
I'd jump infront of a train for you.
You know I'd do anything for you.

I would go through all of this pain.
Take a bullet straight through my brain.
Yes, I would die for you.
But you don't feel the same.'

This song could easily be taken as a love sick pathetic teenage heartbreak song. Which. I'm sure most people have taken it. But. A person I look up to. So much. And love with my whole heart said something to me about this song, that pretty much changed. Everything.

'Isn't life about taking bullets? I mean. Not the literal gunshot bullet, but you're shot with hateful words, friends that once were. Taking a bullet for someone, I always thought, was literal as well as a metaphor. That you stand up for what's right, and if you're hated for it, the people that stick with you, take the bullets with you.'

You. Never took any bullets for me.

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A New Plot Line.

Since I am a character. And this is my life. Then. It's my story to write.

I tried for months and months. Maybe even years. To figure out where I was supposed to take my life. I wasn't quite sure which tale to tell. Which legacy to leave. Or. Rather. Where to burn my star. I knew who I was. That's for sure. I just wasn't positive on which path to lead. Then. I stepped back. I paused. And looked. I opened my eyes and realized something. I have always had it right in front of me. I've always had what I asked for. Since I was a little girl. I wanted to be a part of something bigger than. All of this. And it was staring at me. Straight in the face. This entire time.

Family.

I spent the last week and a half with my family. Not just my dad. Not just my sisters or brother. But. With my mom's family. I sat there in awe. At how. Loved we all are. How connected we all are. How close. We all are. And that's because of one person.

Dear Mamma,
   Thank you.
     For Everything.
   You gave me life. You gave me love. You gave me the truth of the Gospel. You gave me. A family. You brought us all together. Each and every one of us. Even the new members. Know of you. And talk of you. Like you're still here. You gave us. Each other. And nothing. Could replace that. You gave us each apart of you that shines when we're all together. We have all been touched by the legacy that you left us all. The hope that we could all be close. That we would all love each other. And help each other. Be with each other. Forever. Well, Mamma. I think. We're getting there.
   I think we all used to be a little hesitant. Not of just traveling to see each other. But. Spending days at a time with each other. But now. It's so. Easy. It's so. Enjoyable. I sat there. Watching your nieces and nephews run about. Watching my Aunts and Uncles. Watching my should be Aunt. And a new face to the family. Watched Dad and Whitney. And all I could think of. All I could feel. Was how grateful I was. For every single one of them. How connected we all are. And how much love we have for each other. And. That's all because of you, Mom. Everything you wanted this family to be. Is starting to happen. We love each other, Mom. More than you could have ever imagined. It's better. Than anything anyone could ever buy. Just sitting in the living room. Talking. Laughing. Is more than anything I could have ever wished for.
   Thank you Mom. For bringing us all together. For. Loving every person in this family. And thank you. For burning your star in the sky. So we could look at it everyday.
   I love you.

     Love,
   Your baby girl.

Change. Family. Love.

Things change. So fast. So fast you barely have time to comprehend what happened. Things change. For the better.


I finally had a wonderful day. A day I've needed for some time now.

My father is such a good man. One of the few gentleman left on this planet it seems. I know I can tell him everything. And I did. I talked so much I feel like he barely told me anything that was happening in his life. But, I'm sure he didn't mind. It's funny how you act when you're around someone so strong and powerful like him. Even though I'm his daughter, and know what a giant bear he is, I still would be intimidated by him if I saw him in a dark ally. So watch out. Hmm.. But I remember what my newest good friend said about him. "When he walked in the door, it was overwhelming. I could tell that he was a strong Priesthood leader. It's comforting.." And I knew exactly what she meant. I feel it every time I'm with him. Especially at my home. Our little home. Okay. Medium. Spacious. Home. That is filled to capacity with just. Love. Love of the Gospel. Love of the Lord. Love of our mother, who's spirit I feel is still there with us. Love of the Priesthood. Love of. Each other. It's amazing the feeling I get when I just know that I get to go home. And better yet, get to see my father. I know Heavenly Father is unbelievably incredible. Because. My earthly father. Seems to be perfect to me already. And he is an example of everything that God wants fathers to be. Just like Him. Thank you dad. I love you.

It's amazing the way God works. So wondrous. So. Breathtaking. It may take a while for people to realize why things happen. But. This last week. Especially the last two days. I've felt the love of God surround me. In everything I do. I went to Institute with a new friend. The lesson? Heavenly Father chastises those He loves. And through that love. Through all the mistakes you make. Through the Atonement. There's a way back. There is always. Always. A way back.

I have changed so much in the last little bit. And finally. It's for the best. And I know this. Because. I. Am happy. I. Am finally happy with where I am. Who I am. And who I'm with. I know that I have so many people that love me unconditionally and help me through all of these tough times. My new, wonderful, brilliant sister, Elimee, even was worried about me. Just talking to her made me feel better. And I know that's because she is such a great example to me of how I want to be. Just like my sisters. All three of them. And I guess my brother too. Lol. Dustin. He's amazing. So smart. So content. Easy going. The peacemaker. I don't know where I would be without him. He would probably have less marks on his chest from me stabbing him with a fork. But I know he loves me. I guess I need to talk about my other two sisters now too. Michelle. She helped raise me. Helped me become who I am today. Worries about me and talks to me. I can tell her anything and I know she'll have an answer for me. Always. Whitney. Whinney Whinney Whinnnneeeyyy. Practically my twin now. I love her so much. She's such an example of sticking through the bad to end up where you want to be. And not let people get in the way of those goals. Always lifts my spirits. Even when we fight about how opposite we are in some of our opinions.

I love my family. My little. Lovely. Family. There's not much else to say. Just that, I know that I was meant to be part of it. I'm in this for a reason. I'm the youngest because I have a purpose. I've gone through what I have because I'm meant to do great things. Help people. Inspire people. And I will. It just took me a while to realize that I'm not going through all of this for me. But for my future children. Whom I know are loving being with their grandma right now. Because one day. I get to hold them, and know that my mom has already talked with this angel. And I know that I will raise that child with all the knowledge and love that I have been given through these nineteen years of my life.

I. Am ready to be the woman that God wants me to be. I. Am ready to take on the world. So. Bring it.

This Love.

A year ago I was in a car on my way to Utah. So my siblings and I could catch the six o' clock plain to Rochester, Minnesota. To see our ill mother, that had currently been in a hospital for almost a month straight, if I remember correctly. She was flown via emergency jet to Mayo Clinic, for a third open heart surgery. In between this surgery and her last, she had endocarditis, an infection in her heart. She had the heart of a hundred pound woman. She wasn't going to last through a third surgery. We all knew that. But we hoped and we prayed unlike any other time in our lives. This was our mother. Our best friend. We knew that it was her time when she hugged us before they took her to the plane. We all knew we'd never see her spirit and her body united when we said we'd see her when she got home. When she didn't say anything after we told her we'd all be here when she got better. Because we all knew, the next time we would get to see our mother, alive and well, the next time she would get to hold us again, and tell us how much she loves us, is when we all go back home, from where we all came from. We all knew that our mother wasn't crying because she was scared, but because she loved us so much and she knew it was time to go meet her Heavenly Father. She cried because she knew that all of us, eventually, would be just fine. She knew that she wasn't going to see us on this earth again through her earthly eyes, but because she knew she was going to be watching over us from that point on. Watching over us and loving us from above.

A year ago, I knew my mother was gone. I held her hand and felt her blood run cold. I watched as her broken little heart stopped beating. The breath in her lungs run out, and her eyes never open again. I was seventeen years old. No seventeen year old should be standing in an ICU room, holding their mothers hand, praying for a miracle, as the doctors turn the machines off that kept her body alive. No person should spend their eighteenth birthday without the woman that gave birth to them. No senior in high school should face the life changing decisions they will make alone.

I struggle everyday. I thought it was getting better. I thought I was doing alright. And then, out of no where, it all started to crash down on me again. I started to feel like that little girl that stood there grasping onto her mothers dead hand. I started to feel like that hopeless child laying in that hotel bed, not sleeping, not eating, just crying. I started to feel like I couldn't move on. I started to feel as though my whole life was falling apart again.

I'm breaking. Piece by piece. Just, breaking down. I can't seem to move on anymore. I can't seem to let go of my mother. I wish everyday that I could just have her hold me again. I'd give anything. Because nothing can replace the love of your mother. Nothing can replace the sound of her voice telling you how much she loves you. Nothing can replace the reassuring words that she would tell you when you were hesitant about something. Nothing. Replaces the love that you have for the woman that made you who you are today.

Today. Yesterday. Tomorrow.

Today. Never ends. You don't just go to bed and wake up and it's today. It's been today since the beginning of time. Days change. Months end. Years go by. But you never see tomorrow. You never saw yesteday. Because today. The day you're in. Is always. Today.

Today.. Is the 5th month anniversary of my mothers death. I'm only eighteen. And today.. Was one of the hardest days of my life. You think you can just forget it. Put it out of your mind. If you stay positive and do good things you won't even remember what today is. I tried. It didn't work. My best friend. Didn't even know what today was. He didn't even talk to me. Which makes everything. Ten times worse. I stayed home. And sat quiet. Thinking. Wondering. Wishing. What things could be like at this very moment.

I sit here wondering how I would treat her now. Seeing her lifeless, with the only thing keeping her heart beating, her lungs filled with air, her blood flowing.. Were those machines.. Her skin was already breaking down on her forehead from where my dad kissed her countless times each day.. Her chest cut upon, still banaged and red from the three surgeries she's gone through on her heart in less than a week. Her arms and legs covered in banadages and tissue, bruised and mangled from the doctors trying to reconnect her nerves that just stopped working.. Her spiritless body lying there in two conjoined ICU rooms because one wasn't enough to hold all of the machines.. And there our little family stood as those machines were turned off after we were told there was no hope for her brain to recover. She would have been a vegetable. But she never tried to breathe on her own when the doctor shut down the machines. Her too small of heart filled with valves from robots and pigs even.. Slowly stopped beating.. Her eyelids didn't flutter.. She couldn't hug me from that moment on anymore. Or talk to me. Or tell me she loves me.. That moment while I held her hand and felt it run cold.. I was alone.

I left that hospital by force. I wanted to stay there with her. She wasn't just a lifeless body to me like she was to the doctors. She wasn't just a peice of meat that needed to be wrapped up and shipped to the mourge. She was my mother.. The woman that gave birth to me. Who talked to me. Who held me. Who taught me. Who was there every single minute of her day for me. Who unconditionally loved me..

I think she knew. I think she knew when she hugged me and kissed me and told me she loved me as they wheeled her out to the plane to her death.. That is was her time. That she wasn't going to see us on this earth again. That from that point on. We had to raise each other. That when we said see you when you get home. That we actually meant when we're all back together again in heaven. A family forever.

So here I sit in my bed. Alone. And all I have left are memories. Good and bad. The love that she showed. The difficult times. The years that were stolen from her. From me. I sit here at eighteen years old. Going through things that most people never do. Most people never saw their mother in bed from the time they were eight. Most people didn't have to help their moms get out of bed or hope and pray they could make it to church. Most people didn't have to grow up so fast..

I guess in some cases I know more than most adults. I have feelings and hopes and experiences that some people will never, ever, feel. I feel as though I'm doing no justice to the part of her that lives in me. I know I'm not. Sometimes I'm so mad. Why me? Why now? What did I do so horribly wrong that I don't deserve a mother? A best friend who knows what I need and does it? Why did I lose one of the only people that truly loved me?..

Today. That day. Never ends.

For you mother

Dear Mom,

I had an interesting day. That would not have gone as it did, if you were still here.

I want to tell you all about it. But you already know. But I feel like I need to write it down anyway.

My director seems to know me better than I know myself. He ranted about all of these things I feel for my dying husband. Former husband. Then he said. "Even after you left. Who did you call? Who did you turn to? Who was always there? Who always loved you?"

Mom.. I'm sorry.. I'm sorry that I never respected you. I'm sorry I never gave you the affection a teenage daughter should give her mother. I'm sorry that I couldn't break the chain and have an actual relationship between us. I'm sorry that I was so stubborn and selfish to realize everything that you did for me. Every single day. I'm sorry that I could never be an actual daughter to you. I'm sorry I never shared anything about my life with you. I come home to an empty house everyday after school, wishing that I could have changed everything. That I could have told you every little thing..

I wish I was better Mom.. I wish I wasn't so mad. I wish I wasn't so frustrated about everything. I wish I didn't hold grudges. I wish I wasn't mad at God. I wish.. You were back here. Sitting in the living room with Dad and I.

It's so hard without you.. It's so hard..