Oct. 3

Imagine you're a child again, and it's the first day of school. You're getting ready to see your friends after a long summer, and you're excited to learn new things.
Now imagine that instead of going to school, you're going to a funeral.
That's what it's like for me every October 3rd.
October 3rd is the anniversary of my mother's death. She died when I was 12 years old, and I still miss her every single day.
I remember the day she died like it was yesterday. I was in the kitchen, making breakfast, when my dad came in and told me that my mom had had a heart attack. I didn't know what to say. I just stood there, frozen in place.
My dad told me that my mom had been sick for a long time, but I didn't know how sick. I didn't know that she was going to die.
I went to the hospital with my dad, and I saw my mom for the last time. She was lying in bed, and she was hooked up to machines. She looked so peaceful, but I knew that she was gone.
I cried for days after my mom died. I couldn't believe that she was gone. I didn't understand why she had to die.
I'm still trying to understand why my mom died. I know that she's in a better place now, but I still miss her so much.
Every October 3rd, I go to her grave and I tell her how much I love her. I tell her about my day, and I tell her about the things that I'm doing with my life.
I know that she's listening, and I know that she's proud of me.
I miss my mom every day, but I know that she's always with me. She's in my heart, and she's in my memories.
I love you, Mom.