Because of You, Mama

Hey mama.

I published another book tonight.
I wanted to let you know that your book started something great for me.

I wish you could understand something out of all of the things I want to tell you. I wish you could look at what I’m building, or hear the excitement in my voice when a new story finds its home. I wish I could sit beside you—like I used to—and tell you all about the authors I’m working with, the covers I’m designing, the books I’m bringing into the world. I know you never loved fantasy the way I do, but you were the one who lit that spark. Those fairytales you read to me… they planted the seeds of every story I’ve ever loved. Every word I write or publish grew out of that.

You always encouraged my imagination. You were the first person to treat my love of stories like something real, something worth tending. And now I’m finally doing something with that gift. I'm building something beautiful, something I know you’d be proud of—and yet you can’t see any of it, because the FTD stole you away long before I was ready.

I’m lost without you, mama. There’s a hole in my life where your responses, your opinions, your laughter should be. I would give anything for one more conversation—one more moment where you know me, really know me. But even in this grief, I’m okay. Somehow, you raised me sturdy enough to keep going, even when it hurts.

And I want you to know this:
You will always be remembered.
In my heart.
In my work.
In every story I help shape, every poem I polish, every book I send into the world.

You’re in all of it. You’re in me.

I’m grateful for the woman you were—imperfect, yes, but full of love and a deep belief in who I could become. And I want the world to know that whatever I create, whatever name Bluebonnet Books earns for itself, it started with you reading fairytales to a little girl who hung on every word.

I hope, somewhere in whatever quiet you live in now, this reaches you.
And if it doesn’t, that’s alright.
Because I’ll keep remembering you anyway.

I love you, mama.
Always.