I found a treasure today while cleaning in the attic.

In a box were letters handwritten by my mother, Lillian, before she died over 10 years ago from multiple sclerosis.  There were letters written mainly to Daddy, but there were also letters written to us, her kids, as well as her grandkids.

It was like going back in time, to a simpler area, especially the letters written to us when we were small, when she first got sick.  The letters explained her feelings inside as she dealt with the symptoms, and then the testing, and, ultimately, the diagnosis of MS.  They were full of heart, but they also contained fear, worry, and most of all, hope.

Mom had always been a strong Christian.  She raised us kids in the church and taught us all to have a great love for God.  I think it was her (and our) faith that got us through the storms that the MS caused, especially when her health worsened over time.  I don't know what we would have done if we hadn't had God during those dark times.

Then came the day when Mom died.  She was only 47 years old, far too young.  Had she lived now, she would have been 59.  Her birthday would have been this past December, on December 24.  Mom was nearly a Christmas Baby.

We miss her terribly, especially on holidays like Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the Fourth of July.  She went out of her way to make the holidays fun and doted on her family and friends.

The letters are something that I will always treasure.  I will proably read some of them, and maybe compile them and put them into a book, as a way of keeping her memory (and her legacy) alive.  I think it is all I can do; after all, Mom was probably my best friend in the world.