Dear Mom,

I've been thinking about you a lot. Don't get me wrong, I think about you all the time, but especially in the last week. I've been very, very sad lately. I'd be lying if I said I don't cry myself to sleep anymore, because I do. Sometimes I get so caught up in my own thoughts about loosing you and it hurts. And then somewhere in the middle of my hysterical crying, and trying to hold myself tight I try to think about good things, happy things.

Remember that one time when we went shopping at Allens grocery store? I'm not sure why we went, but I begged you to take me with you. In all honesty, I hate grocery shopping, but if it was with you then I wanted to go. We got there, and I was acting like my usual obnoxious teenager self. You asked me to get chips on the isle over, so I ran to the other side, found the chips, and told you to get ready. You told me if I threw them over the isle you'd kill me. I pretended like I didn't hear you.

"1...2...3..."

I tossed the bag of chips up in the air and to the other side where you were at. I heard a crash and ran over. I quickly realized why you didn't want me to throw the bag, when the manager of the store was standing right next to you. Once he left you couldn't help but laugh at us, while I made you dance with me in the middle of the grocery store. Making you laugh was the sweetest thing my ears have ever heard. I'm glad we had those small moments together, that even though you wanted some time to yourself, you let me tag along with you.

I remember the time you and I were in the old green van together, and I was so sad, and so devastated from my dad. Right before Christmas he picked to spend time with another guy then me. I was very upset, and you told me to do what I thought was best. So while my dad was at a club with his new friend, I packed my stuff up from his house on Christmas Eve, and drove back home to you. While we were in the van, the day after you were there to hold my hand when my dad called. He pleaded with me to come back to Salt Lake. You and I both knew his tricks, and I told him I wouldn't. It was the first time I really stood my ground with my dad, and you were there to silently back me up in whatever choice I decided to make.

Maybe I miss you so much right now, because your absence is very evident while trying to plan a wedding. Even though we would most likely argue and bicker over the small details of my wedding, I'll miss your very strong advice when I get scared, or feel like I can't do this. I'm doing everything I can to be strong, and remember the good times.

I miss you terribly.

Love,
Your Rachel