To the baby girl whose mommy just died

Editor's Note: Elissa Bogardus, 33, was diagnosed with cervical cancer in March 2014, followed by the discovery of a secondary cancer in her chest wall. Unfortunately, she lost her battle on Jan. 28. Elissa leaves behind a 1-year-old daughter, Brooklyn. This legacy letter to Brooklyn was written by Alicia Cook, 28, of Toms River.

Hello, baby girl.

I heard some terrible news today.

You lost your mommy. She was sick, and she tried her hardest, but she had to leave you.

She didn't want to.

She tried her best to stay with you, but the angels took her away. She lives in heaven now.

You are only 1-year-old at this very moment. Sadly, as you grow up, you may not be able to remember the one full year you experienced with the most important woman in your life.

Little girl, please do not get discouraged. Many people love you dearly, and they knew your mother very well.

They will fill your daily life with memories of the person she was.

They will remind you how much you were loved by her.

They will show you pictures of your beautiful mother; some from before you were born, others after you blessed her life.

You will hear so many stories about your mother — backward and forward, inside and out.

Everyone will tell you how much you laugh like she did, and how you share the same golden hair and eyes.

Yes, these aren't your memories, but any kind of memory about your mother is special — because she was special.

So special.

No one will be able to explain why it was your mother who got sick. Why it was your mother who battled her hardest and still lost. Why it was your mother who did not have the privilege to watch you grow into the young lady you will no doubt become.

No one will ever be able to explain why your mother had to leave you, while other children still have their mothers physically with them today, planning birthday parties and rocking them to sleep.

Little girl, you are too small to understand this right now, but cancer is the worst.

It does not discriminate.

It doesn't care if you are young or old, boy or girl, happy or sad. It doesn't care how much life you had left to experience.

Cancer does not care how many people the person it is taking away leaves behind.

Cancer took your mommy away from you physically, but no one can take her away from your heart.

She lives there now.

She is forever in your heart and in the hearts of every single person she touched during her short time here.

Though the memory of her voice may fade and her scent will eventually leave the house you grow up in, her essence — the extraordinary things that made your mother special — will live on forever through the people around you. Soak it all in. Every picture, every story, every "remember when." Your mother will continue to live on through the people who loved her and because of this, you will be able to still get to know her as you grow up.

We aren't here forever. Everything we experience here is temporary.

It can be gone in an instant.

Sometimes, the end arrives much too close to the beginning.

No matter how fleeting, hopefully, we'll say: "It wasn't a long while, but it was worthwhile. It wasn't a long life, but it was a wonderful life."

Little girl, please stay strong. Please remember that life is a gift, and your mother did not squander one single day of her short time here on this planet. She loved you, and everyone else in her life, very much and will continue to smile down on you from afar.

Make her proud.

Birthdays, celebrations, milestones, school days, first loves, first heartbreaks, first everythings will be lacking one pivotal person in your life: your mother.

It breaks my heart knowing all you are going to miss out on before you're even old enough to process how much your life has just been altered. However, I do believe that just because your mother is no longer here, does not mean your mother is lost.

You still have a mommy, it just looks a bit different now. And it will look different for quite some time. Then one day, a long while from now, you will meet again, and it will be as if no time has passed at all.

She will once again wrap you in her arms, and this time, she will never let go.

Alicia Cook, 28, is employed as the Associate Director of Admissions and Communications at Saint Peter's University in Jersey City. Learn more about her in Instagram: @thealiciacook.















