It's hard to believe it's been a whole year since you've gone. So much has happened, yet it's like I've been in a daze much of the time, really just numb most of the year since your death.

I hope you don't know all that has gone on down here in the past year. I mean, there aren't supposed to be any tears in heaven--only happiness.

Some of us haven't done so well since your death. I just had to get away--even soon after we put you in the nursing home. I ran away, but not too far--just three hours away in Huntsville. It's all turned out pretty well though. I have a couple of good jobs that I enjoy, and there's someone new in my life that I think you would like. Myrtle Lee and William are looking after the old house, and Bob's still there nearby. Someday I might go back, but I just can't live there now.

The first few weeks and months after you died, I visited your grave often and left flowers from the garden there. At that time I wanted so much to die myself and be buried right there by you and Daddy. But I grew stronger as the weeks and months passed, as I began a web page in your memory. This page in your memory is a place where I hope people are finding help and encouragement. It's about the disease you had, and it brings together a lot of information about that disease as well as telling our story. I think you would like it. Several people have written me that you are up there smiling down on me. That would be nice, if you really do know about this. Sometimes I think you do, and sometimes it's almost like I can feel you cheering me on when I work on my page.

Mama, I just want to say I'm sorry if I did or said anything to hurt you while you were still down here. I got so tired and I ran low in patience especially near the end. When I visited your grave after you died, I told you that over and over "Mama, I'm sorry"--I felt better after being there where you and Daddy are buried, crying and talking things over with you.

You were always wanting to go home when you were down here, always after the Alzheimer's took your memory of where you were and who the people around you were. Now you are home--up there with the ones you remembered, the ones you longed for. I haven't been as good as you Mama, but I hope some day I'll be there, too. It's just not home anymore down here without you, and I know I'll be at home again if I can be with you someday.