I look around the house, and I see all of the presents I got my mom for Mother's Day over the years. Wreathes with dried flowers, figurines, framed poems. Stuff that was supposed to prove I loved my mom, to make sure she knew how much.
Now, that measurement of love is the span of years I've been grieving since her passing. It's been 6 years, and I still miss her. I don't know if I'll ever stop. This leads me to believe that there is Mother's Day in heaven just as there is on Earth. I know that she's been watching over me for the last 6 years, and now I don't have to worry about stuff that means love. I just love. She knows it. Happy Mother's Day, Mom! I love you!