I don't recall ever writing a tribute to my mom, just an obituary full of facts and lineage. I deeply regret not thanking her for giving up so much of her life to make mine richer.
My mother was handed a full plate when I was born. A young mom, straddled with an infant born with multiple health issues, she devoted herself to my care. I can still remember waking from numerous surgeries, meeting her watchful gaze, clenching her hand while my surgeon removed hundreds of stitches, and feeling her gentle touch as she soothed my skin, irritated from one body cast after another. My soul still feels her encouraging words, her healing balm, always available after a string of bullying and ridicule. 
Life was hard for both of us, but she was determined to lighten difficult days with her creativity and humor. I learned to extend kindness from this beautiful woman.
Empty nesting brought deep sadness for my mom; she was never the same and neither was our relationship. Distance and difficult circumstances widened the chasm between us. I filled the void with my own nest; she poured herself into her closest grandchild.
Wisdom came too late for me to make anew our relationship. Oh, it wasn't bad, just incomplete.
I long today to hold her in my arms and care for her the same way she did for me.
Wisdom came too late.
I love you, Mom...