Dear Mom,

I had a really bad weekend and I wanted to tell you all about it but you're gone now.  You left us today at 1:55 PM.  

Last week, you didn't respond to my morning wordle text two days in a row.  I messaged you and asked if you were ok but you never responded.  I had a busy week from mutual to a relief society activity on Thursday night.  Friday night, Craig, Blair, Stephen, and I went to watch beetle juice so we didn't come over for dinner.  Dad called me on Saturday and told me to come over because you hadn't actually eaten in a day.  He was hoping I could come over and feed you.  I called Craig and said, "red alert"!  But I sort of hoped I was wrong. I had a strong feeling that this was really a red alert.  When I arrived at your side you were not able to talk much.  Craig brought you a milk shake from Blake's Lotaburger and you took one drink.  You just couldn't swallow.  I changed your clothes and helped you on to the potty next to your bed.  We sat with you and talked a bit but you were very tired.  As I left, I called all of my siblings telling them that things didn't look very good but we would know more Sunday morning.  

Sunday morning we went to church.  I should have rushed to your side.  But I didn't.  I called Dad to see how you were doing and he said you still hadn't eaten but he had medicine for you so I should come over and help give it to you.  I came over and changed your clothes while dad left for his temple interview.  I asked if you wanted to go and you shook your head no.  You were supposed to go to that interview so that you could see Jared and Faith be sealed in the temple.  I know you wanted to go.  You drank some water but ultimately asked for some more morphine.  Craig and I helped you get more comfortable and sat with you all evening.  I asked you if I should call my siblings and have them come see you.  You shook your head no.  I asked if you were going to get better, you shook your head yes. 

I was so sure you would get better.  You always got better.  You always managed to rally for me.  Monday morning I had scheduled a breast exam.  I went in at 10:00 AM and the exam girl had a hard time getting the right photos needed.  It seemed to take forever.  As soon as I finished I drove straight to your house.  You didn't look good.  I called each of my siblings and let me know.  Craig came rushing over.  Sharla and Kendra booked flights to fly over on Tuesday.  The bath nurse came and she had a very strange look on her face.  She was crying and said that she had just talked to you on Thursday and you were fine.  I saw in her eyes that this was the end.  I told dad to call the on call nurse so he finally did.  The on call nurse came right over and told us the bad news.  She said you would be gone within hours.  HOURS! It was noon so I called Jared, Sharla, and Kendra to tell them the bad news.  Sharla and Kendra had both moved their flights to get here to see you Monday night.  I held your hand and read you the scripture from our daily scripture app, and then I read you a very sad text from your brother Curtis.  I just couldn't believe you were leaving me.  I kissed your forehead and hugged you tight then said I would go get lunch and be right back.  Dad crawled in to bed with you to hold your hand while we were gone. 

I shouldn't have left you.  I sobbed as I walked down the stairs.  I, again, called each of my siblings to tell them that I would eat my lunch then we could do a joint call to say goodbye to you.  I heated up my lunch and ate in tears.  I grabbed Edward and we headed out the door at 1:35.  I called Stephen and asked him to meet me at your house with Nolen so that we could all say goodbye.  We drove up as the bishop was just leaving your house.  I ran up the stairs to catch your very last breath with dad laying in bed next to you holding your warm hand.  You left us today.  

My heart is completely broken into a million pieces.  I feel regret for the first time in my life.  I love you.  More than I can ever say.  You were truly a beacon of light in my life.  You loved me.  You really loved me.  All of my rottenness.  You loved every single part of me.  Even when I didn't deserve your love.  You loved me.  I miss you so much already.  The whole in my heart is so large that I feel such a heaviness on my chest.  It's like I can't breath with out you here.  I have never in my whole life felt so incredibly sad.  

I have always been able to call you or text you or see you whenever I wanted and that has been taken away in the blink of an eye.  I am so grateful for the last five years you spent with me here in Albuquerque.  I have had dinner with you nearly every single night.  I have played games with you.  Lost many of those games to you.  You taught my boys history and showed them what the true love of Christ feels like.  You loved my husband as if he was your own son.  You accepted him in all his faults.  You left me.  Here.  I am left to face the next 40 years of my life with out a mother.  You were supposed to live to be 100.  I can not believe you are gone. 

Your last text to me is a smiling emoji.  I know you are smiling now.  I hope you are somewhere beautiful.  I hope you are running and dancing and singing.  I hope you know how much I love you.  I love you, I love you, I love you.  I am so sorry I was such a bratty daughter.  I could have been better.  I should have been better.  I miss you.  

I cancelled all my lessons for Monday.  Craig and Blair came up the stairs at 2:00.  I had told you we would be back by 2:00.  We all sat in stunned silence when you left.  I called the on call nurse and she came back over to pronounce you dead.  I called each of my siblings one by one to bear the terrible news.  Stephen took the boys home.  None of us could bear to leave your side.  No one moved.  We sat in your room waiting for the mortuary to arrive.  A few hours later, two girls rang the doorbell and came up the stairs dressed like Morticia Adams.  It was almost comical.  They were dressed in black from head to toe.  Black lipstick and black hair.  It seemed a bit in appropriate to me but what do I know about death.  They wrapped you in a sheet and carried you down the stairs.  We watch their every move with out breathing.  I worried they would drop you.  Once they got you on the stretcher they began to take you outside.  Dad grabbed scissors and cut you one last rose from his garden and laid it softly on your chest before they loaded into the hearse. The mortuary girls loaded you up and drove away.  We watched as they left.  No one could peel their eyes away.  It was excruciating.  Again, no one moved.  After a few moments we went back up stairs and cleaned up your room.  You were no longer sitting in there watching your favorite shows waiting to hear about our day.  You were gone.  It was silent.  I turned off your oxygen machine earlier and the house has never been more quiet.  After gathering up some of your things to return to hospice and we went downstairs.  Sister Bergavin brought us dinner.  Somehow we ate.  Stephen and I drove to pick up Sharla and Kendra from the airport.  We drove them to your house but you are no longer there.  

You're gone.  And I am sad.  This has been the worst day of my life.