A letter home

131

Dear Candace,

I'm curled up in a blanket outside. The birds are chirping and my coffee is almost drinkable. Yesterday, in preparation for Mother's Day, M. planted a bunch of flowers. She insisted we go to look at plants, then picked out a beautiful snapdragon, potted it and put it on the kitchen table. Her love of plants mirrors your own.

Remember that time you came to visit and the plant in my living room was screaming at you that it was dying and you saved it? You were always so in touch with the green world. She's not always as patient as you were with the whispers of the grass and trees and flowers... but in time, I suspect she will hear it more clearly. I signed her up for an organic gardening class next year. It's what you would have done. I don't hear the earthy world as clearly as you did, I've always been more in touch with the watery one. She for sure gets her love of the earth more from you than from me. She doesn't really even like to swim.

She went to her first prom last night. She looked so much like you. It caught my breath a couple of times. She's got your stubbornness, humor, kindness... can you believe she will be 15 next weekend? How did that happen? Only a short time and she will be off to college.

I have the photo of the two of you above my bed. I remember how unhappy she was that day because you took her out of school to get the pics taken and that you didn't care because you knew it was important. You were in the middle of one of the rounds of chemo, but you looked stunning. Probably because you never took a bad photograph!  It's a beautiful photo and it captures the connection perfectly. I have one of your whole family in my office. I look at it every day.

I often find myself remembering what you taught me about friendship. Until I met you, I didn't really understand what it took to be a true friend. You showed me rather than told me - through your actions, your laughter, your anger, your honesty and your kindness - more about unconditional love than anyone I had met. Your spirit showed my spirit its value. I sometimes wonder if you were preparing me to be a better person simply by being with you. You used to say I was the most spiritual woman you knew, that even when I could so easily take the low road, I took the high road. I wish I could say that was true, but friendship sometimes makes it easier to not see another's flaws. If anything though, being friends with you helped me shine all the brighter.

But of all the gifts you left to me, all the life lessons, the memories of swimming at midnight down at the lake, the rehashing of relationships until 4am, teaching me how to be more aware of people, how to weed out the people who were mean or unkind to me... the best gift you gave me was trusting me to raise your daughter.

And in case I didn't thank you enough - not just for all you did for me, but all you did for your family, and for everyone who ever asked anything of you... Thank you.

And thank you for thinking... no... for knowing in your heart I would be a good mother for your daughter. I never thought I would be a mother and when that happened, especially because of how it happened, it simultaneously shattered my heart, and then completely filled it.

I think of you every single day and have a million questions about guys, and life and choices and love and what the heck am I doing? You know... the questions you always helped me find answers for - especially when I started spinning in my head about what to do. You listened, you told me your thoughts and you called me on my crap when I needed it.

I just wanted you to know, even though I believe you already do, she is doing well. I am doing well. We are doing well. And if I am half the mom you were on Mother's Day today... then it is because you were my role model and my best friend.

Miss you,

MK