To the Greatest Mother of all

Dearest Mother of God,

It’s me, Alex. This day, September 8th is not only special because it is your birthday but because it is also my Lola Chona’s death anniversary. I’ve always wondered how my life would be different if she were still alive to watch me grow until this very day; whether she’d be able to guide me into choosing what is right and if she’d instantly know if something were wrong and ask me to sit on her lap, like we used to do every time she saw my face. I can’t help but feel like I was her favorite because she always paid me attention; she always wanted to make sure I was okay. I am happy that you took her away on this special day so that she could be with you in grace and peace and her suffering would stop but what about the people she left behind? What about me? Did I not deserve to have a grandmother to serve as a second mother when I wanted a ‘motherly’ being to talk to? Why couldn’t I feel the love of a grandparent until today? Why couldn’t I have it with me until I grew up into being a teenager and finally into adulthood? Why did she have to leave so early? I can’t help but feel like I would’ve been a much better person if she were around but she’s not and all I’m left with is myself trying to figure everything out, hoping that somewhere along the way I end up doing what is right and best for me. I always thought that when the dead left, their spirits are still there watching over you but not once since she left did I feel her presence. It’s like she’s gone forever. She could’ve helped me, Mother. I can’t help but cry at the loss I feel right now, from growing up without her and losing my way. She should’ve been there when my mom wasn’t. She’s the only one strong enough to talk to me and find out about my life and see through every little thing I put up to keep people away. She should’ve been here with me all this time.

Mother today is your day, and I am sorry for previously sinning at daybreak but today is special and it is yours. Happy Birthday. I’m sorry if I haven’t talked to you in forever or acknowledged your presence. You’re a mother, Mama. You looked after Jesus and raised Him beautifully and righteously and I hope in time, you could be that for me too. Talk to me like God talks to me. Like Jesus talks to me. I don’t only have one family; I have two, and I am hoping you’re all up there and you’re all happy and I am hoping that you love me so much, too. So much that you’ll never leave me even if I falter and forget you sometimes; that you’ll always watch over and talk to me when you see I am sad or broken. Be the light that sometimes I can’t be for myself when I am on the brink of giving up. Be the hope that floats. Be my ultimate lovers. But most importantly Mama, I need you to be my Mother.

Happy Birthday. I will love you so.

I am still here,



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