After my mother died when I was 9 years old, Mother’s Day became one of the hardest holidays for me. It was a constant reminder that she was gone. People would always ask “What are you doing for mother’s day?” when they didn’t know.
My mother was one of the most beautiful, caring people in the world. I know one of her fears is that I would forget her, that I was too young to remember. She was wrong. I can still smell her Charlie perfume, see her cock her head to the side when she was making a point, and the beautiful clothes she ALWAYS wore.
This year is the first year that I’m truly happy again. I have a reason to celebrate.