An Odd Moment of Clarity and Peace.

Dear Mom,
Today I had an odd moment of peace and clarity while in the shower, where most of my "epiphanies" are born, and I wanted to share it with you because, well, it is directly related to you. Instead of skirting around this, I'll be short, concise, and simple.

I realized that I am in a place in my life that I always, somehow as a child, knew I was going to be. I always wanted to live in the mountains. I always wanted to be in a relationship that "felt like home" and was truly unconditional. I always wanted to be this happy and this proud of myself. I realized that while loosing you will forever remain the single most difficult thing I've ever had to cope (and am still coping) with in my life; loosing you helped me choose, from a very early age, what kind of person I wanted to be. I chose to be independent, strong, true to myself without compromise, and full of secret deep compassion for the world and everything that lives on it. I am not entirely sure, in fact, to be honest, I am fairly confident that I would not be so confident, self-aware, strong, or level-headed had you been in my life while I was growing up. Now, please...of course I wish I had you there every single day, but in your physical absence, I learned (and apparently turned out like you) even more because I always tuned in to my intuition, my memories, and the lessons I learned with you by my side. You've always been with me, and I hope I'm still with you. I like who I've grown to be and where I'm heading in this life (because I've accumulated all of the traits listed in your absence) and I hope you do too. Not knowing for sure will forever suck.

My clarity and my peace are simply this: Mom, alive or not you were, and are, everything I ever needed. This, while extremely difficult, was meant to be. One day I'll find out if I made you proud.

I miss you. I love you.

Love,
Ashley