A Letter Addressed to an Unknown Mother Written in a College Dorm in Spring

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|text=Mother's Day is an annual holiday celebrated on the second Sunday in May.]]
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Dear mother, 

I did not know there was a day for mothers. I learned
recently that today was meant to be a celebration of mothers,
a way for children and sometimes the children of children to 
thank their mothers (mothers, godmothers, grandmothers, etc.) 
for all the work that goes into being a mother. Hana sometimes tells 
me what she can remember about her mother; 
In the shattered mirror fragments she sees her mother, the nurse
who worked long days and returned home to be a mother, the mother
who tried to give her daughter everything-- mother bear who tried to shield
Hana from the realities of the world for as long as she could. When asked,
I was told that there was no greater love than the love of a mother, 
and although it may seem like that love is expected from a mother, 
there are many mothers that, for one reason or another, do not 
give their children the love of a mother. 

In the past, I have read a lot about mothers; queens of princesses 
are mothers, as are the evil step mothers and fairy godmothers. 
They, often, do not show the love of a mother; a princess in a 
tower has two mothers, though one she does not know, and the other,
Mother Gothel, steals the princess' hair. I wonder, mother, if you 
had read these stories too? A knight calls me princess, mother, and
though I have only met you once, you told me you were an 'empress',
mother. My stories do not often speak of empresses, mother, but
when I get older, will I find myself as an empress too?

People seldom speak of you, mother; father, on his visits, 
remarks that I look almost like you, (do children often resemble
their mothers?), or does not regard my questions of mother at all. 
I wonder if father feels as though he has to take the role of a mother, 
though I do not know if a father can replicate the role of a mother,
nor does father seem able to be close enough to be a father, let 
alone a mother. 
The closest I have had to a mother was Light, 
though it too seems she is unable to be a mother. When I was 
younger, I used to call her mother, but the word 'mother'
seems to lose all meaning when there's no mother's love 
in return. 

I often think about you, mother, and if you were even ready
to be a mother. A mother's work seems hard, and no amount of preparation
can prepare one to be the mother of another. 
Somedays, I wish I had someone to call my 'mother'; 
I see what seems to be my mother in antler moths or wildflowers,
hear the song of my mother in the chirping of birds or river streams--
but there is none of my mother to feel. 
Life feels empty without the love of a mother, like I am walking 
blind without the guidance of my mother, hollow without
the encouraging words of my mother. 

Every night I wish to the stars to speak once more to my mother,
for them to give me a sign the love of my mother is there.
I pray one day my mother will answer. 

Love, Meri. 
Your child, missing her mother. 
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A Letter Addressed to an Unknown Mother Written in a College Dorm in Spring

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