Dear Mumsie, Today I went to the cemetery, and I walked up to the very top of the hill and sat down under a tree. I started talking to you, and an eagle appeared. I immediately remembered the Bible verse: "They shall mount up with wings as eagles, they shall run and not be weary, and they shall walk and not faint." Right after that, a deer appeared at the bottom of the hill. I knew it was you, because you loved wildlife so much. And I knew it was you because you struggled so much with mobility in your last years, and now you can fly like an eagle, and run like a deer. I feel so much compassion for you after moving here. It has been a culture shock for me, but in a good way. The people here are so genuinely kind and easy to talk to and laid back. In the short time I've lived here, I've come to realize that part of my anxiety was the culture of Wisconsin - the "go go go" live to work attitude, the personal worthiness we attached to a person's career. I wish it was something I understood before. I wish I could talk to you about it now, but I know you know. I now have a better understanding of how much you suffered, and my heart breaks for you. You endured abuse as a child, and then drug addiction as a young adult. You got pregnant by a man you barely knew and made the choice to get married, which you probably thought was the best - or maybe your only - choice at the time. And then - being only 25, pregnant, and married to a man you barely knew -- you moved to Wisconsin, which I now know had to be an very unpleasant culture shock for you. I am sure you felt incredibly alone. But you did your best, and you found joy in your children. Even after you realized you were not happy in your marriage, you tried to keep it together because you thought it was best for us kids. I can't imagine how depressed and lonely you felt, how much pain you were going through. I don't blame you for losing your mind. I wish you could have gotten the help and support you needed. I wish you would have felt more love and acceptance from those around you. That is why I am glad you are in Heaven now. You are free from all of this suffering. You finally get to feel all of the joy and love and acceptance that you so desperately yearned for for so many years. You get the family you always wanted and needed. It's pretty amazing the way God's timing works. I wanted to move west, but He knew I needed to come home for awhile to spend time with you. I wouldn't have come home if Michael and I hadn't been experiencing hard times. We could have moved to Eau Claire, but God placed us in Chippewa, close to you. It feels like He kept you alive just long enough for us to spend some quality time together, and then when the timing was right, He let us know it was time to move on, and He took you Home. So now I am here, in the south, where you were so excited for me to be, and I feel closer to you than I ever have in my life. I wish I could talk to you about it. I wish I could tell you everything I am feeling and experiencing. I know it's something we would have had some wonderful conversations about. Besides Michael, you are the only one who really understands what it's like here, and I feel like I understand you so much better now. As much as I hate that I can't talk to you in person, I know that you know. I know that you are here with me. This morning as I was sitting in that cemetery, I cried tears of gratitude. I am so grateful that you are no longer suffering. I am excited for you to learn the Truth about the gospel, about God, about everything you've ever wondered about. I am grateful that you get to experience the immense joy and love that I have felt from Christ. I am so excited that you get to finally feel the peace you've so desperately longed for. I love you, mom. And I miss you. And I know it's going to hurt every time I see or experience something that is uniquely southern and want to tell you about it, but I know you'll be looking down on me and smiling. Always your daughter, Robin Rae