Melissa. Missy. Mama Eastman.

You were an angel from the very start, but tragically the best things always tend to end too soon.

You are a badass Melissa.

The perfect balance between sweet mama bear and “I’ll whoop your ass in a drinking contest.”

I don’t know how long it will take me to realize you aren’t here anymore.

You are the flip flop air freshener dangling from your Hummer’s rear view mirror; your smile as you tell us about how one of the guys with disabilities that you take care of and you have so much love for, picked it out all by himself just for you. You kept that little flip flop dangling there for months, even after the smell had been faded out of it.

You are in the candles that filled your house, never once burned as if to save them for some special day that needed just a little extra light. Fear of expending their beauty on something menial, but all lost in such a short time. If only we could have enjoyed your beautiful light forever.

I remember you driving us home from school when we were just 6 or 7. We were having a particularly grumpy day and you turned to us fussing in the back seat with a fresh bag of milanos. You told us that “milanos make you happy. It is a scientific fact.” I remember reaching my little hand inside of that stiff paper bag and fishing out one of those happiness cookies; and it worked. One cookie and we were all laughing.

Milanos make you happy.

I wish it were still that simple.

I loved the trips you would take us on; the “staycations” just across the state. Our girl trips when we were so small and going away with mom, even if she wasn’t your own, was the biggest, most exciting adventure. Now I see both happy and sad times in those trips; our pure naïve innocence to her someday departure from her role on earth.

You are beautiful in every single way Missy. Not a day will go by where you aren’t being loved from afar. I hope there are lots of milanos wherever you are now; you deserve all of the happiness in the universe.