When my mother was still alive, there were times that I could guarantee that she felt under appreciated. And it was always worse come Mother's Day.
Let's face it. I rarely called, and when I did, the conversations were not something that I wanted to stay engaged for—not for hours on end. And I never visited. For many years, she lived in Auckland while I lived in Christchurch. She and dad did eventually move to the South Island, but even then, it was a 3-hour drive away. It took planning... and I sucked at it. (I still suck at that particular side of things with dad, rarely seeing him.) And I never sent presents or cards.
But I loved my mother dearly. She had such an influence on the way I see the world. One of her many sayings pops into my head on a daily basis. She was always in my thoughts, even if I don't tell her that.
This letter was my pathetic attempt to tell my mother how much she meant to me.