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A Love You Letter to My Mother

I love reading and writing. I came to writing late in life and discovered a world where I feel like a fish in the water.


Dear Mom,

You’ve been gone for five years now.

I love you more than words can say. I’m so sorry that I wasn’t present during the last minutes of your life. I got there a little late.

I wish I had listened to my intuition telling me “go visit her now, don’t wait for the agreed upon time”. At nine o'clock in the morning that day, I sat in my car looking at my watch waiting for the hour hand to hit the ten o'clock mark.

Typical of you to die on a Saturday, a day you knew your daughters wouldn’t be in the office and wouldn’t have to rush back to your place. You always worried about imposing on us when in truth we loved looking after you and showering you with love.

Did you hear me cry? I couldn’t control my sobs and my sorrow over losing you.

Mom, I always knew you had a beautiful soul but didn’t really appreciate it until I saw the luminous energy leave your body.

I was standing outside your room looking at your dead body feeling shock and grief. Even though you were already dead, I found it difficult to accept that your body was placed on the floor as is the custom here. But then again, I remembered the times you told us how you wished your death and funeral be simple.

After a few minutes of looking at you, I saw a luminous energy leave your body. The radiance was stronger and more beautiful than the rays of the sun.

Curiosity overtook my grief, so much so that I actually checked and compared. I looked out the window of your room to check, then went out on the balcony. I did this more than once and each time I saw the light of your soul shine brighter than the rays of the sun. It made me feel amazed and in a way eased my grief.

I wish I could hug you and laugh with you. I loved how the two of us used to talk about everything and anything. I still prepare my meals the way you taught me and follow your advice to stay out of trouble.

Last week, on the eve of your granddaughter’s birthday, I dreamt of you. In the dream, you confided in me that you’re sorry for not having visited her and her mother, your daughter, more often. I’m sure you were aware they knew that flying and being in a car for a long time caused you a lot of pain. They never held that against you. They loved you and miss you.

The daughter you lived with is the one who must feel your loss the most. She took care of you for more than four decades. Toward the end of your life, you became more a child than a parent to her.

You are in my heart and my thoughts. I wish I could hug you one last time. But you gave me a gift with your passing, and it was emotional growth.

Wherever you are Mom, I pray that you are surrounded by love and beauty.

Your loving daughter.


Your daughters were moved to tears after reading my letter to you; one of them cried. You were so loved.

© 2021 Liliane Najm

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