I've never met you. I wish I had. Judging by the photo your daughter has of you, I can see where her beauty comes from. It's so bizzare and incredibly sad that today is your one year anniversary since passing away from your daughter's life. I literally just found out about half an hour ago, since she doesn't really talk about you too much. Which I can understand. Some stuff is just meant to be personal, I suppose.
I don't know what it's like to lose a mom. I know I'd be crushed and broken if my mom passed away, and I don't know how quickly I'd recover from that. So I can't imagine what it's like for your daughter, who's gone a whole year without you. Who's gone a whole year without seeing your smile or embracing your arms. Your daughter loves you, and she misses you so much, and I wish there was something I could do to help her. A big hug, for sure.
It's amazing how you've come up in my life, somehow. Or, well, been relevant. I had to break up with your daughter because of your husband, and to an extent you. I don't blame him, he was just being a father. I don't mean anything by it, really. I just find it interesting. What I wish I could do is get your approval. I believe in heaven, so I wonder if you're looking down on your daughter, and maybe me, listening to the thoughts that are going through my head that are too difficult to translate to words. I don't even know why I'm doing this. Maybe because I care for your daughter oh so much. I wish I could get your approval. I want your daughter's father's approval, but I can't because she forbid it. I guess this is me just talking to you. And I sincerely hope you're listening, and understand your daughter's pain.
I've rambled enough. I really wish I could have met you, Ms. Please look over your daughter, and shine rays of light with your smile. She can use it. She deserves to be happy.
Rest in peace. Smile from above.