PART 9 – I Thought the Hardest Part of My Wedding Would Be Missing Mom, Until Her Words Made Me See Her Differently

I kept the letters beside me for a long time.

The wedding was over.

Daniel had already checked on me several times, but he understood that I needed a little time with Lucas.

I couldn't explain everything I was feeling.

I was happy.

I was heartbroken.

And somehow, I felt closer to my mother than I had in years.

I looked at the smaller envelope again.

My name was still visible on the front.

I ran my finger over the writing.

"She remembered me," I whispered.

Lucas looked at me.

"She never stopped thinking about you."

I believed him.

I had always known that my mother loved me.

But there was something different about holding a letter she had prepared for a day she would never get to see.

It made the distance between us feel smaller.

I picked up the photograph again.

Her uniform looked neat.

Her smile was unmistakable.

I tried to imagine her sitting somewhere in Iraq, writing the letter and thinking about the daughter she had left in Boise.

I wondered how many times she had thought about home.

I wondered whether she had imagined the wedding day as often as I had.

Then I looked at Lucas.

"Did she talk about Daniel?"

He smiled slightly.

"She didn't know him, sweetheart."

I laughed softly.

"Of course she didn't."

"She talked about you growing up. She wanted you to have a happy life."

I looked down.

That was something I could understand.

My mother had wanted me to grow up.

She had wanted me to experience things she couldn't be there to witness.

I thought about the promises she had made during those telephone calls.

She had wanted to be present for the important moments.

She had wanted to see me become an adult.

She had wanted to wear that crimson dress.

Lucas had given me a way to remember that promise without pretending that the loss didn't hurt.

I folded the photograph into a clean piece of paper to protect its edges.

Then I placed it back beside the letters.

Daniel eventually came over.

He looked at the envelopes.

Then he looked at my face.

"Are you all right?"

I nodded.

"Not completely. But I'm glad I opened them."

He pulled a chair beside mine.

I showed him the photograph.

He studied it carefully.

"She looks like you."

I smiled.

I had heard that before.

But hearing it on my wedding day made me emotional again.

Daniel placed his hand over mine.

"She would have been proud of you."

I looked away for a moment.

I wanted to believe that.

I really did.

Lucas stood up.

He adjusted the crimson fabric and gave us a little space.

Before leaving, he looked at me.

"Keep those somewhere safe."

"I will."

He nodded.

"I know."

That evening, I took the letters and photograph with me.

I didn't want them packed away with the wedding decorations.

I wanted to know exactly where they were.

When Daniel and I finally had a quiet moment together, I placed the envelopes on the table beside our wedding photographs.

I looked at them one more time.

The paper was old.

The handwriting was familiar.

And the promise had finally reached me.

For the first time since my mother's death, I didn't feel as though every important memory of her belonged to the past.

Somehow, she had become part of my present again.

Click here to continue reading: PART 10: After the Wedding, I Couldn’t Bring Myself to Put My Mother’s Letters Away, So I Made Room for Them in Our New Home