Posted by: Kathy | November 16, 2012

It’s Been 4 Years

Dear Mom:

I can’t believe it’s been 4 years since you were taken from us. There are still times when it seems like you were here just yesterday, and then there are times when I am painfully aware that you are gone. I promised a good friend that I wouldn’t let this anniversary hurt as much as the first one did. So far, I’ve kept that promise.

I started off the day buying five balloons (four for me to symbolize the 4 years you’ve been gone and one for Dad). I then stopped at the gas station where I had my last real conversation with you. I normally don’t go to that particular gas station, but on Friday, November 14, 2008, I did. I spoke to you while I was waiting to get gas. Today, as I was getting gas, I asked the same attendant if I could release a balloon in his parking lot. I explained why I wanted to do so, and he shared with me that he had lost his dad 4 years ago in September to prostate cancer. We watched as the silver balloon floated upwards in the cold morning air.

I then went to the old TaeKwonDo academy, since you were such a big supporter of Matt and his accomplishments. I stood near the front door we all had entered so many times and released a red balloon that said “I Love You.” The balloon went in a different direction than I thought it would, but it didn’t get caught in anything and floated silently away with my message for you.

My next stop was the house I grew up in. The house you died in. The house Dad still lives in. I stood in the driveway and released another balloon, watching as it drifted over the gardens, rising high enough to clear all the trees. Dad wasn’t home when I got there, so I wandered around the house for a few minutes looking at memories of you.

Your love of owls and the Best Mom stone I gave you years ago

A few of the many cookbooks you used

The prom queen and witch at Halloween

When Dad came home we went to the cemetery. After cleaning up around the headstones, I released my final balloon and Dad released his. From the hill where you’re buried, we watched the balloons until we couldn’t see them anymore.

This balloon says it all

Then Dad read a few passages from two different books about love, life, and death. We ended our day together with a late lunch.

Although today is the anniversary of your death, it was a day filled with good memories of you, a few tears, and time with Dad talking about you and remembering all you did for our family.

I love you, Mom.




  1. What you did on her death anniversary was a very meaningful and unique token of her remembrance.

    • Thank you. I will always want to honor my mom and remember her with love on the day our family lost her from our lives.

  2. Beautifully remembered, Kathy. I love reading your blog. It brings a certain sense of calm to me as I approach the first anniversary of my mom’s passing (still can’t say the “d” word).

    • Thank you. I’m glad my words help in some way :-). I hope the days leading up to the anniversary of your mom’s passing aren’t too hard. Please remember you are not alone. Take care.

      P.S. I don’t often use the “d” word. It’s a hard word to think about when thinking of someone you love/loved deeply.

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