Today is the tenth Mother's Day since you're gone. And I am writing this letter to let you know that I am ready now. To let go... to let go of those moments that haunted me occasionally for 10 years. I choose to be left with all the memories that had made us, us; The continuous laughter we had shared... your warm chest, my harbor against the tempest... our Friday escapades... our afternoon talks over the rims of our coffee mugs... the way you childishly traced back your wet locks away from your face when we were swimming... the way my father looked at you with the pride of having a woman such as yourself in his arm whenever you two left the house for a night out... I will never ever forget that look which made me realize the wonder of being a pair... a beautiful pair... and I do hope, mother, that one day, I will also be able to cause the man I love to look at me with such pride as he takes up my arm and leads me out of our house... our pizza days...