Mother's Day

So, at the end of the movie version of A Series of Unfortunate Events, the Baudelaire orphans return to the ruins of their mansion for one last goodbye before they set off on another ill-fated adventure.  While there, they receive a long-lost letter, which their parents had sent from Europe before they died: 

Dearest Children, 
Since we have been abroad we have missed you all so much. Certain events have compelled us to extend our travels. One day, when you’re older, you will learn all about the people we’ve befriended and the dangers we have faced. 
At times the world can seem an unfriendly and sinister place, but believe us when we say there is much more good in it than bad. All you have to do is look hard enough. And what might seem to be a series of unfortunate events may, in fact, be the first steps of a journey. 
We hope to have you back in our arms soon, darlings, but in case this letter arrives before our return, know that we love you. It fills us with pride to know that no matter what happens in this life, you three will take care of each other with kindness and bravery and selflessness as you always have. And remember one thing, my darlings, and never forget it - that no matter where we are, know that as long as you have each other, you have your family and you are home.
Your loving parents. 

The letter is beautiful and sad and almost too perfect to be real.  But one time, smack in the middle of my big breakdown, I was digging through my bucket of memories and I found a postcard my mom had sent me when I was a small child.  There's no post mark, so I don't know exactly when she sent it, but I'm certain it means more to me now than it ever did when I was 6 or 7.  

Hi there Princess Aubrey: 

How do you like this pretty picture?  This is the temple where Daddy and I were married.  Someday, you too will be married in a temple of the Lord.  I miss you.  I'm so glad that you are there to help Daddy.  He could use your help.  Thanks for being a good (and pretty) young lady.  I'll see you very soon. 

Remember to tell Daddy where you are going at all times. 

With love and kisses
Mommy

It isn't quite as dramatic as the one from the movie, but my "letter that never came" was as beautiful and sad and perfect to me as I imagine the one the Baudelaires received was to them.  

I could write volumes about how I feel right now, but it's far too late at night, and I don't want whoever might read this to have to wade through that kind of word vomit.  I'll compose my thoughts (and condense them) and post them sometime later.

Anyhoo.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom.  

Skidamarkink a-dink a-dink, skidamarink a-do, I love you.

❝ HER ABSENCE IS NO MORE EMPHATIC IN THOSE PLACES THAN ANYWHERE ELSE. IT’S NOT LOCAL AT ALL. I SUPPOSE IF ONE WERE FORBIDDEN ALL SALT ONE WOULDN’T NOTICE IT MUCH MORE IN ANY ONE FOOD THAN ANOTHER. EATING IN GENERAL WOULD BE DIFFERENT, EVERY DAY, AT EVERY MEAL. IT IS LIKE THAT. THE ACT OF LIVING IS DIFFERENT ALL THROUGH. HER ABSENCE IS LIKE THE SKY, SPREAD OVER EVERYTHING. ❞  A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis