Yesterday I got the news that you were freed from this life. Your pains and suffering were over. God needed you to come home.
Though I'm relieved that you are no longer weighed with the terrible anguish of your ailing body, my heart is broken.
Partly because you're gone and partly because I missed the chance to come see you before you left us.
I was coming to see you soon. We made the plans, worked out the schedule, set the date, thinking, hoping you had more time. But I was too late. I wish I would have come when I had the first opportunity.
There were so many things I wanted to tell you.
First, how much I love you. I have many wonderful memories of you throughout my life. I remember your visits to Arizona every year and how much I looked forward to them. I remember the little motor home you and Grandpa brought to stay in.
I remember coming to your house for summer visits, one at Christmas, and the fun we had with the cousins. I remember your laugh and your smile, your twinkling eyes, your generosity, and your example.
Next I would thank you for my Mother. You brought her into this world and raised her to be who she is today: one of my best friends, a mentor, and a rock in my life.
Then I would tell you how much I admire you. Your intelligence and accomplishments (a Master's degree in Chemistry!) have inspired me to pursue my own education and create higher goals for myself. I hope one day to reach those goals and make you proud of me. I also hope to have your courage, your wit, and your ability to stay positive during difficult trials. I'd like to think I got my healthy sense of humor from you.
And lastly, a request I wanted to make. Some might call it a strange one or an unnecessary one. But after hearing about your illness and the grave prognosis, I knew you would soon be with my Ella. I wanted so badly to ask you to give my girl a hug and to tell her how much I love her and miss her. I wanted to ask you this in person, before you moved on to your next great adventure.
I missed that opportunity.
I'm so sorry.
But now I honor you. You lived a great life. You are a great Lady. And I am forever grateful that our family is eternal.
Beautiful, inside and out.