We never had a very good relationship. I moved out when I was 14 cuz I couldn’t deal with you anymore. Dad left a couple years later, and I blamed you for driving him away like you did to me. But we were the ones who left you. Things stayed pretty much the same for awhile after that. they’d get better for a little, then id get pissed and start yelling at you and just stop talking to you. last year, i pressed you for money because i wanted to impress someone i liked. you said you couldn’t help me. i said if you don’t help me now you will never talk to me again and you will never meet the children i have some day. about a week later i got an email from dad. he said he knew we weren’t talking but that i should give you a call. i thought that was so weird because you two absolutely hate each other. i replied to him that i was done with you, that i feel like all my bad qualities come from you. because i thought you were weak, and i thought that’s why i was so weak too. The next day he called me and said that he didn’t want to be the one who told me but the reason i needed to call you is because you had cancer and the doctors were saying you only had about a month left. i called you right after that, on the verge of tears. you sounded so out of it, like you were only half alive. immediately i got so scared. The first thing you said was that you knew i was mad at you, and that you didn’t want me to feel like i had to be nice to you just because of this. that’s when i started crying hard. i told you i was sorry. and since then our relationship got a lot better. you were going through your treatments, and I couldn’t be with you so the next best thing was to make sure I called you everyday, or at least every other day. i was just waiting for the phone call…that i needed to get a ticket and hurry down to say goodbye for the last time. but you beat it mom, you beat the fucking shit out of it…not once but twice because they found it had moved to your brain a few months later. in the span of a year you survived two different cancers, chemotherapy, radiation, a mastectomy, and brain surgery. When i finally came down to see you for the first time since all this had happened, you were so embarrassed by your appearance. You always wore a scarf to cover your bald head, you wore loose fitting shirts to hide the mastectomy. you told me you thought you looked like a monster and that you missed feeling pretty for the first time. I said that you were wrong, the hair would grow back, you would have reconstructive surgery. But what I really wanted to tell you was that i thought you looked absolutely beautiful. I have never been so proud of you or anyone else in my life. I was so wrong about you. It’s whatever strength I have that I got from you. I love you Mommy.