Today it has been 15 years since my mom died. Next year marks an important milestone--the year where I have lived more than half my life without her.
I miss her less than I did when I was 16. But I also miss her more. I wish she could see her grandchildren. I wish she had left some kind of legacy--cards, videos, a letter--anything, really. But she didn't.
My takeaway lesson is this: take care of myself. I am going to get gene tested (the cancer she had may or may not have been the genetic kind), do rigorous self-checks, stay on top of my fat intake and eat right because I never want my kids to go through what I have gone through.
But if I ever (G-d forbid) have to leave my children, I will also leave them things to remember me by, this blog, the letters I write to them on their birthdays, the essays I have written about them. I never want them to forget how much I love them.
My children/husband have done more for healing the wound then anything before them, but it will always be there and I will do my best to never leave my children with the same hole.