Editor's note: Following are some excerpts from a letter Sonja Morris wrote to her mother just over six years after Rose Denson's death in an automobile wreck caused by a drunk driver.

Mrs. Morris said putting her words on paper sometimes can be a healing experience.

Dear Mom,

How strange is that? It is Nov. 23, 2001, at 12:10 a.m., and I have laid in my bed for at least 30 minutes to an hour wiping tears from my eyes telling myself how silly I am for feeling this way.

I have great kids, an awesome husband and all the material things anyone could ever want. I cry for many reasons but the one that weighs most heavily is the loss of you as a mom, a friend and a grandmother.

Losing you has changed my life in so many ways.

I guess I hate how my kids will never know that your body was frail and yet your heart was stronger than Dallas. How your hands were bent by winter years, and yet so gentle when you brushed Madison's hair. I hate that they will never know your smile, feel your love or know what a good Mom you have made me.

I believe I got my gift of giving from you and God. You were never ever selfish. How do you teach that? I guess the best way is by living it. You did not have a selfish bone in your body.

I just wanted you to know how much I missed you.

I love you, and I hope it never gets easier. I hope you will always be in my heart, and I hope your spirit of lovingkindness can be passed down to my children.

Thank you. I love you, and I am still missing you.

All my love, Your Daughter

Sonja