December 29th 2018 my mom died of melanoma cancer.

She didn't tell us how bad it was, until one week before she was gone.

I write her a letter every month.

Because it is hard to say goodbye to your mom.

Hey Mom,

It's been a month since you went away. It is still hard to believe and LaSucks. I haven't gotten used to you being gone. It still feels too final.
I keep thinking you're just not talking to me, and anyday you'll send me a message, or call me like nothing happened. I keep waiting.
Everytime I call gramma's house, I think you're going to be there. I listen for your voice in the background, but I can't hear you anymore.
We cleaned out your apartment this past weekend. It was really sad. It was difficult to pack all your things, and give your stuff away.
I tried to clean your place. I wish you could have seen that. It was kind of funny, and I know you would have laughed at how upset I was by the mess, and all of Elijah's dumb jokes. Matthew thought I used too much 's**c and span'. I think the whole building heard me reply to that one. Poor little Matthew, just backed away. I did eventually get it all cleaned. If you could come back and see it, you'd be really happy.
I found a really pretty dress in your closet. I never saw you in it, but you would have looked really pretty. I am going to borrow it, along with that fluffy winter coat Jonathan found. I think that must have been a treasure. Matthew said you wore it all the time. I'll wear it now, until I don't miss you so much. People keep saying over time, this gets easier. I'll get used to you being gone. I'm sure that's true, but for now, it still feels like you slipped away too soon.