As I sit and look out my window I see the snow falling. The stillness of the night as the moon reflects on the snow covered trees gives off a kind of magical feeling. I start to daydream of my youth, when I was in awe of each new thing.

Oh, how I would dream of my birthday and finally when the day was here I would see the gifts and realize none were from you.

How I would wait for each Christmas Day and no presents had your name on them. How I longed for your touch as a child and then teenager when a young man broke my heart. Oh how I cried and longed for a mother's love. For you to show me the way.

I remember my first time feeling your hand in mine. How it had snowed that day and I had gotten caught out, alone and scared. The snow and wind mixed with the start of darkness made me lose my way.

I cried and prayed and even said a few damns and hells. All without any luck as to the correct way to go. I sat and cried and knew I would be lost for the night. Suddenly the wind stopped. Everything was quiet, so deathly still. You came to me and took my hand, leading me blindly on my way home. I felt the kiss of your lips at my temple and a soft voice telling me you had never left me. You would always be near, as near as my heart, and always watching over me.

Many years have passed since that night. The night when I found my mom had not left me. She was not dead in a sense of gone and forgotten. As long as she was in my heart she lived. She comes to me when I need her the most, letting me make my own way and mistakes, then talking to my heart in a kind and gentle way.

She is out there, I know. I feel her in my heart and see her smile on the snow covered tree tops. She waits for me to come outside and build a snowman. She talks to me when I am down and cheers me on when I accomplish the impossible.

I see her smile in my eyes and hear her laughter in my voice. I am never alone. My mom is with me. She lives in my heart. She is no stranger to me.

She is my mom.