The Gift From Mom

Logbook Entry : 00033
January 14th, 2010

So as I found myself sitting in front of a box label by my Mother, to myself, and wonder for some time whether or not I should open it. It has been quite awhile now since my mother past. Opening this gift could bring tons of memories rushing back to the for front. But with lots of support from those that read my posts, I finally got the courage to open the gift.

Tearing the wrapping paper off seemed like it was a never ending process. There wasn't a lot there, but once I started on the wrapping paper, I couldn't help but wonder if I shouldn't open this gift. More and more wrapping paper was ripped away. Slowly, a box began to appear. I removed the tape that kept the box closed and sat there for about a minute before opening the box. Ruffling through the packing paper, my gift was there.

Back many years ago, my Mother and I were sitting on the couch watching the All-Star game. Hanging out in the center field was a baseball player in which I fell in love with named Ken Griffey Jr. I would get into how much I idolize him, but maybe I will save that for another day. What my Mother said to me that day was, "Maybe we can go see Griffey play someday." What I found lying in the box, waiting to be opened, was a Seattle Mariners jersey. I broke out in tears and did this for about 10 minutes. Once I cleared my eyes, I found a card tucked under the jersey. And it said:

Dear Hamlet,
I hope you can forgive me for not telling you. At some point this past summer, I had found out that I was sick. I visited the doctors and they told me I wasn't gonna live much longer. I wanted tell you. I am sorry for this. I didn't want you to spend all your time worrying about me. Therefore, I with held this information for your own good. I wanted you to be happy. I don't like to see you worried and sad. I just want you to know that I will always be with you for as long as you live. You are a wonderful young boy and I hope for nothing but happiness in everything you do. I love you Hamlet.
Mom

For another 30 minutes or so, I cried. Yorick climbed up onto my lap and tried to comfort me. He did some, but nothing could ever bring back my Mom. I will miss her so much. I can't write anymore. I'm sorry.