Mrs. Marcy Stern a"h: 3 women remember amother’s love, ateacher’s wisdom, an eternal impact
Dear Mommy,
Dear Mommy,
I can’t believe that the first letter I’m writing under my real name, rather than a pen name, is to you — about you.
Reality hasn’t hit yet. It hasn’t yet registered that you’re not here with me. You left us so quickly; the whiplash leaves me breathless.
There is so much I still want to say, so much I should have said, and now — now it will have to be a letter to you in my heart.
The week of shivah was a blur. I know it sounds cliché, but it’s true. Sometimes the minutes passed by slowly, in excruciating agony, but almost as quickly as we sat down, we were told, “Kum,” get up.
Create a free account to keep reading.