Dear Mary - 05/04/2026

Dear Mary,

I built something with your name on it.

I don’t know if you would have expected that from me… or if you always knew I would find my way back to words.

Everything I’m creating feels like a conversation I didn’t get to finish.

There are things I wish I had asked you.
There are things I wish I had told you more slowly.

There are days I replay moments, wondering if I was present enough… if I understood you fully while you were still here.

I think about how much I’ve carried.
How early I learned to be the one people lean on.

How I made strength look like silence, like direction, like having a plan even when I was afraid.

You would probably recognize that version of me.

But I’m trying to become someone softer now.

Not weak… just… open.

Someone who doesn’t hold everything at once.
Someone who lets life meet her halfway.

This space, this house, it’s where I’m practicing that.

Some days it feels like I’m doing it right.
Other days, I still feel like I’m surviving more than I’m living.

But I’m still here.

Still building.
Still writing.
Still trying to understand what it means to live a life that feels like mine.

I hope you can see it.

I hope you can feel me trying.

— Your child