I never got the chance to know my mom. She died of cancer when I was 2 years old. I don't remember what she looked like (except for pictures), I don't remember her touch or her smell or her voice. I think that if I wrote her a letter I would thank her for giving me life, even though it probably helped to cut hers short. I hope that I have become the woman that she dreamed I would be. I try to be a good person and care for others. My children tell me I was and am, a good mother, although it seems like I was growing up with them. I hope my mother is proud that I'm her daughter.
I really want to tell you about a letter that I wrote to my father. As a sophomore in high school, in 1967, my typing teacher gave us an assignment that for Fathers Day we were to write a letter to our dads. I wrote the letter, thanking my dad for putting his life on hold as he raised two daughters on his own. I told him that I was sorry that sometimes I was a spiteful and ungrateful daughter (as we all were at 15) and that I would try to be a better person and make him proud of me. I told him that I loved him with all my heart and always would.
I didn't know how much that letter meant to my father until the day after he died, when I found it in his wallet. It was deeply creased and careworn. He had shown that letter to all of his friends, and carried it with him for 11 years.
So please, don't wait until your loved ones are dead to write them letters. If they are still living, write them so they can appreciate them now. You will never know how much those written words can mean.