She Was My Mother

There are so many things to do, people to write: thank yous to people who sent flowers, donations; there are lawyers and agencies and a household of stuff, there are phone calls to be made. I want to write and thank the doctors for trying, I want to write to the man who conned her and took her money, leaving her ashamed, broke and worried. I want to write to the State of Virginia correctional people so they will put him back in jail. I want to write and say I don't understand how being my mom was her proudest accomplishment and yet we still fought and argued and disagreed. I want to have some understanding. I want to remember when I'm driving in my car that I can't call her because she isn't here anymore.

And when I write will I tell them of how her breath caught, then stopped. Of how I stroked her face and told her it was all okay now? Or will I just be polite and thank them for the role they played in her death?
Her death.
She was my mother and now she is gone.