A letter to Mom on Mother's Day

Hi Mom.
Its been a while since we spoke last.  You passed from this earth about five years ago.  Seems like forever.  Seems like yesterday.
Remembrances are all I have.  But the bottom line is that you loved me.  Period.  I know there were times I worried you.  I am sure there were times you got angry or frustrated with me.  But.  You loved me.
I remember one night you came to check on me in the little house in Norco.  I had done something wrong (I don't remember, grades, whatever), and I was afraid to tell Dad. 
You were sympathetic, but you helped me do the right thing and talk to him.  Its not that I was afraid of Dad, I just didn't want to disappoint him.
You, however, were the parent I could turn to.  You were the one that cared for me when I was sick.  Not that Dad didn't, but you were the primary one.  When I had a fever, you were at my bedside.  When I was just plain down and out, you were the one to buy me comic books.  I loved that.
You made us slumgullion, Dad's term for whatever noodle enhanced, budget stretching, leftover using concoction you came up with in the electric skillet.  I loved that stuff.
You, my dear mother, encouraged me to learn to cook.  It has served me well.  It is something I can do well, I give my love to others through my own concoctions.  It gives me great pleasure.
I watched you make bread.  You showed me how to knead.  The smell of the yeast was heavenly. 
Then, you let me take the reins in the kitchen.  I found the recipe for Swedish Tea Rings in the Betty Crocker cookbook, the one with pictures. 
I made a God-awful mess.  The floor, sink, stove, and anything nearby was covered with flour.
But I succeeded.  I made several tea rings for family.  I got rave reviews.  I felt good about myself in a way I hadn't before.  I learned to give love, to be a caretaker from you.  I cherish that.
Now that you are in heaven, I just wonder what is in store when I get there.  I wonder if I get to cook there too.  I would love to be a part of the team that puts that heavenly feast upon God's table.  Who knows.  But I will be there. 
I can't wait to see you again.  I want so desperately to get a hug from you.
As I write this, the tears are flowing, the snot is running, my heart is regretting not spending more time with you.  I miss you.  Hugs.
Happy Mother's Day. 
David