During the past few months, as the coronavirus pandemic has swept across the world, leaving devastation in its path, I have done much soul searching. My main purpose in life these past few months has been to take care of your needs, your health issues, your entertainment and everything in between.
It wasn’t until last night, in the middle of the night, that the thought occurred to me that over 95,000 Americans have passed away, alone in hospitals and nursing homes, jails and on the streets, with no opportunity to say goodbye to their loved ones. It was then, even during these treacherous times, that a feeling of gratitude washed over me. As tired and as scared as I have been, all of that seemed to disappear when I realized that you were still here, safe and relatively healthy, asleep in the front bedroom.
So many people pass away never hearing that last “I love you,” or that final “thank you.” So tonight, while I already sat with you and had this conversation, I wanted to write it down.
I may lose you tomorrow, next month, next year or in five years. If I keep tripping over and disconnecting your oxygen tube, it will definitely happen sooner than later. I just wanted to take the opportunity to thank you. You always ask me why I thank you, but tonight, I didn’t allow you to speak… I just wanted you to listen.
First, I thanked you for giving me life. For raising me with good morals and values. Thank you for living your life in such a way that I could learn by example. You have been through so much and I’ve watched you face everything with such poise and such grace. You taught me to be a good wife and mother, a good daughter and sister, and a good friend. My work ethic, my tenacity and my ability to make flank steak, mac and cheese and butter cookies… these are all things I learned from you.
Because of your patience and tenderness, I am who I am, and I thank you for that. I am grateful that I took the opportunity to tell you all of this while you are still here. I have no doubt that you knew all of this, but I wanted to tell you anyway.
I love you,
Judy (your favorite daughter)
P.S. Does that earn me a standing rib roast???