Dear Mr. Cullen,
I'm writing on behalf of your mother, Esme, who has just assured me that you will laugh at the formal way I addressed you. So, keeping her instructions in mind, let's start again.
Dear Edward, Esme would have liked to write this herself, but hopes you will be able to hear her voice clearly even through the ink of a stranger. She now says third person sounds stupid, so I'm going to write whatever she says, verbatim.
My dear boy, it is something of a paradox that I love Christmas as much as I hate winter. Did you know, Christmas became my favorite time of year only after you were born? I started to love it, because you love it. Your joy became my joy. Even when a freak accident took away your dad and my little Alice all those years ago, you were the reason I kept going. You have always been my light, and I am so proud of the man you have become.
It snowed last night, and this place looks rather like a Christmas card right now. I'm sending you a picture. I know you weren't happy with my decision to move to this facility, but once in a while we do need to be practical, my son. I hate to admit it most days, but I need the care they provide. I know the doctors have given you some kind of doomsday prediction about my life expectancy. How much time did they give me before the tumor spreads all over my brain? A couple of months? Half a year? It doesn't matter. I have had a lifetime of love, of loss, of living, and that's what I'm focusing on. That's what I want you to focus on as well. I'm still here, and I refuse to let you mourn me until I'm actually gone.
So, don't think of this as my last Christmas. Think of this as the 33rd Christmas we get to spend together! Stop running away and hiding behind work. I love you so much, and can't wait till you're back home in Seattle. Bring me something pretty from California. You should meet Bella and thank her for writing for me. She's pretty and single. Don't roll your eyes. And don't go away for such long trips anymore, Edward. Yes, two weeks is long. I miss you.
P.S.: Mr. Cullen, Esme is one of my favorite people here, always so cheerful, so positive. She got tired and fell asleep, but only after I promised I'd get this in the post today. She also made me promise I wouldn't strike out that part about me being single. Please, just ignore it. Having said that, I really hope you can make it for Christmas dinner here. Esme hasn't mentioned it in her letter, but she's really looking forward to it.
Warm wishes,
Isabella Swan
(Volunteer, Twilight Care Facility