I see you down below. I’m smiling, I’m cringing, I’m crying, I’m yelling. I always had a big mouth on me, my Nana told me. But they can’t hear me now.

I’m sorry I left you. I’m sorry I couldn’t cuddle you or sing our cuddle song or tell you I love you one last time. I hope you’re okay.

I’m sorry I left you. Every bit of pain you feel, I feel, maybe even more because I couldn’t protect you. Every joy and win you have, I think I feel more because that’s all I ever wanted for you. I’m sorry for the pain and suffering I caused you because of my pain and suffering. I’m sorry I left you this way. If I could reach you, I would fight for you. I would tell people when they’re hurting you. That was always my role. I was your protector.

I’m sorry I left you. Will you always have sorrow? I never meant to cause it. How could a mother be so cruel to cause her children pain, sorrow, and loneliness? I never meant to be those things. I fought for you. I always wanted to punch people who upset you. I had anger issues. But you saw I was human and that I had faults, and you loved me still. Anyway, I’m sorry I left you. Please don’t walk down that alley, street, or hill. There’s danger there. I tried to tell you, but we can’t know everything. I wish I did. I wish I could always protect you.

I’m sorry I won’t be there to share your joy when you fall in love or to hold you tight if you ever ever need it. I’m sorry I don’t have an inkling of your future happiness. Will you have a family? Might I have been a grandma? I know I always said I didn’t want that, and people thought it was strange. But I guess they were right; maybe I should have wished for it. Maybe I’d still be there.

I’m sorry I left you. I never felt old. I never felt mature. Maybe I love the Peter Pan story so much that it became me, but I’m sorry. I was selfish. I’m sorry I left you.