Fast forward three years later. I still really miss you always. You are always in my eyes and your loving voice is beautiful to hear even if imagined. On some visits, I asked you stories from your life and mine. The way you speak is soft spoken but clear. No other voice I know comes from a human so tortured by grief, but so infused in sweetness and strength of soul.
In my dreams, I'd build a home with walls made of roses for you and with ceilings spanning the sky; never bringing the bitter cold to you.
Sometimes, I so desperatly want to correct the world for you so that you may finally smile at me without an ounce of thought dedicated to the monsterous creature in your home.
You sleep on thorns, and bathe in tears sometimes. Reaching the jail cell and peeling the layers of fear has become exhausting for me. I've spun the word freedom to you in a million phone calls. Sometimes I know I've reached you, and sometimes I'm a blind bat hitting a wall.
Even if a solution is there, I'm beginning to realize that maybe it will never leave my hands and go to yours, because words of freedom and independence are not enough muscle to shake the fears.
So, while I chip away at your fears to build your strength, your love is fuel in my own cold and bitter days. Mom, for all the simple things you do for me, I'm indebted to you immensely. I am going to fight to the ends of the earth for you.
I love you forever mom.
-Proud daughter
