Dear Mother,
The anniversary of your death draws near, and you have been on my mind more and more as of late. With everything that has happened in my life, it's hard to imagine that you are not here to be witness to it. I hate that you're not here, because there is so much I want and need to talk to you about. Some days I blame you for wanting to move on after Father; if you hadn't, then you never would've gone out with another man and been in the situation that led to your death. Other days I blame myself for not being strong enough to save you.
You and I were never that close, but somewhere in the back of my mind I had always hoped that one day we would be. I suppose I gravitated more toward Father because he didn't judge me; he understood me for who I was and accepted me and all my flaws. Mistake after mistake he was there to pick me up, brush me off, and helped me truly believe that I could continue on and do better, be better. Father and I had so much in common, including our personalities, and I think that's why we had such a close relationship. I was always daddy's little girl.
I have tried to understand why you and I were so distant with each other. At first I thought it was because of the connection Father and I had of being mages, but after the twins were born, you had that closeness with Bethany that I had always wanted. You would make the pretty dresses for her, lavished attention on her. And when she made mistakes, I was blamed for them. More and more you told me that I was a bad example, the bad influence, that caused your darling daughter to stray down the wrong path. In your eyes Bethany was perfect, but if she did falter, it was because of me.
Over time I had given up on you ever being there for me the way you were there for her. She got all of your attention, and it brought Father and I that much closer. So in a way I suppose I benefited from your cold shoulder. And I came to accept it, because I had Father, so it was okay.
When Father died, I needed you more than ever. I needed my mother. I was alone. But you were so lost in your own grief that you didn't have time for me. And so I spent years trying to take care of you while holding onto Father in every way possible, because there was no time for me to say goodbye to him. You stole that time from me, and sometimes I wonder if I'll ever be able to let him go.
The distance between us continued to grow. And on the day Bethany died, your true feelings for me came out; you blamed me yet again for her actions, and I've held that guilt for a long time. I've been holding the guilt of your death as well. I don't want it anymore Mother. I don't want to feel like every bad thing that has happened in the world is my fault. Carver once tried to convince me to stop feeling this way, said I was only punishing myself. Maybe it's time I listen to him.
We were making some progress during our time in Kirkwall, at least I thought so. I still feel as though you were never proud of me though, never truly had forgiven me for Bethany's death. As I've grown older, I have tried to understand your point of view, and suspect that maybe you've always resented me for my relationship with Father. My being a mage took a lot of his time away from you while he trained me, and I wonder if perhaps you felt neglected by him. It would have been easier to blame me for stealing his time than blame the man you loved. And maybe you didn't even mean to do it on purpose. I suppose now I'll never know for sure, but I think I finally get it.
My life is changing on nearly a daily basis, I've come to realize that I must let go of all this, so that is the reason for this letter. I am giving you the proper goodbye that I need for myself in order to move on from these feelings of guilt. Just because we weren't close doesn't mean I don't miss you. There is an emptiness in my life that only my mother could fill, so know you will always have a place in my heart.