The first Mother’s Day after Kylene’s passing was gray and dreary. Cold, stinging rain pelted us from the sky, reflecting our own tearful mood as we stood by her grave. Vonnie, whose day this was, set the roses I had bought for her in Kylene’s vase instead. Their tender petals trembled under the rainy deluge, reminding us of their delicate, beautiful, and all-to-temporary nature – a fitting offering as it reflected the beautiful flower buried beneath whose own bloom was so brilliant but brief.

Vonnie lamented that she was not a mother anymore, now that Kylene is gone. I disagreed. As Kylene continues to live in our hearts and minds, the woman who cared for and nurtured that special child, shaping her into the special young woman she became, lives there as well. For we are a part of Kylene as she is a part of us; we have learned from and shaped each other. She shall forever be our daughter, as we shall forever be her parents. Forever loving. Forever proud.