Rose Miller 
Dear Mom,
You told me many times, “Everyone has baggage, we’re each born with a unique set of circumstances and challenges and if everyone would throw their baggage into a pile searching for another, we’d come back to our own because we have an inner strength to own it.”
Hearing you say that was huge with everything you’ve been through in life but I’ve never liked this comment, it felt like weakness, like acceptance. How do you just accept such difficult things? Especially now? How can I accept that you have passed? It’s not fair and I don’t want to choose my baggage. I wanted a lighter one, this one is too heavy and you’re not here anymore to help me carry on.
It’s been six months since you’ve passed. I was broken and lost when you died and I stopped writing. It didn’t feel the same without you.
“Life goes on.” You’ve said when things were hard. I just never imagined I would have to go on so soon without you.
But I am, and I will because I have to. The harassment hasn’t stopped. The stalker, the tormenter hasn’t gone away yet, but he managed to scare me back into silence yet again and you aren’t here to support me through it. It makes me angry that my voice has been silenced by the fears he instills in me by his threats.
I know this would make you angry too. “Don’t let him control you,” you’d say, but I didn’t have the strength to write and stay strong and grieve your loss. We were doing this together. But as time passed, not writing felt like a part of me was missing. It is who I am and he knows it, that’s why he’s doing this but I know I was meant to do this it makes me feel alive and I can’t let him stop me anymore. It’s my baggage, my story and it’s time to own it, in all its pain and all its beauty. It’s too powerful to keep inside.
Every step, every agonizing step I have taken has led me to this moment. My moment. I will keep my head high and my hopes higher and I will share a story that must be told. One moment at a time. It’s stronger than any threat or harassment because it’s the truth. My truth.
I am pulled despite everything I face, pulled towards the truth of my story and by the layers of revelations over time, like a flower whose layers bloom and I see now why you named me Rose. I’m seeing just how deep my story goes and it isn’t over. There is so much left for me to do before my time is up.
Everything’s connected Mom, nothing is by chance. I believe everything happens for a reason, and I feel ready now. It will empower me, it will help me heal. Losing you was the worst thing that ever happened to me. I may not understand why things happen but I understand enough to see there is still so much beauty in my life even with all I endure and I need to bring it to light and I have found a way. Writing will lighten my load and help me carry on.
It’s all dedicated to you Mom, everything I am, everything I accomplish is because of you!
I’m coming back stronger, I will write again and blossom, no more withering away in fear. You have nothing to worry about he won’t control me anymore. I promise I won’t let him.
Rest in Peace.
Rose
