Today is September 7, and this is a day I wish I could erase from the calendar forever. Two years ago today, my beautiful daughter Nicole died by suicide. There are still so many things about that day that play over and over in my head, and there are questions I know I will probably never have answers to. But today, I don’t want to spend all my time talking about how Nicole died. I want to talk about Nicole, because my daughter was so much more than the worst day of her life.

If you had known Nicole as a little girl, you probably wouldn’t believe me when I tell you how much she eventually talked. 😂 She was incredibly quiet when she was young and didn’t talk to anyone outside her little circle of Mommy, Papa, Gramma, her siblings and Dad. She was an elective mute until Grade 5. Then she found her voice, and apparently she decided she had some serious catching up to do because once she started talking, she didn’t stop! I still laugh thinking about the day her class went completely quiet when Nicole finally said something. Nikki just looked around at everyone and basically said, “What?” as if nothing unusual had happened. Yep, that was my girl.

She was stubborn too. Oh my goodness, was she stubborn. Once Nicole had her mind made up about something, there was probably no changing it. But she was also incredibly affectionate and loved people so deeply. She was funny as hell and could turn just about anything into a reason to laugh. She was also forever bringing animals home. I’d look at her and ask, “Nicole, where did you find that?” and she’d casually answer, “On the sidewalk!” 😂 Apparently our house was the neighbourhood animal rescue because she even brought home a baby squirrel once.

My dad nicknamed her Blowfish when she was just a tiny baby because she had the biggest cheeks and would puff them out like a puffer fish. And Nikki was technically her nickname, but when she was in shit, she became Nicole Elizabeth. Every mother knows that full-name situation. 😂 You hear your FULL name and suddenly you know you’re in trouble.

As she grew up, Nicole loved her music, especially rap. Tupac and Eminem were among her favourites. She loved her friends and cousins, being outside, drawing and writing poems. She was an amazing artist, and I still have a couple of her little doodles. She also wrote a poem called “Blue,” which I’m going to laminate and hang because those little pieces of her mean so much to me. They are reminders that she was here, that she created things, that she had dreams and thoughts and a whole world inside her.

And then there was her love of food. 😂 When Nicole was younger, she absolutely loved kiwi. I could buy a whole basket, put it in the fridge and come home to find my daughter sitting at the kitchen table eating every single one. Not some of them. Not most of them. All of them. Eventually she developed an allergy to kiwi, which honestly makes me wonder if her body finally said, “Okay girl, you’ve had enough.” 😂

Nicole had one hell of a sense of humour. She was tiny, and she loved hiding in things and popping out at people. You never knew what she was planning. She could take the most ridiculous situation and turn it into something where everyone was laughing so hard their sides hurt. And if you ever made the mistake of telling her you were about to pee yourself from laughing, well… you had just given her ammunition to keep going. 😂 She had that way about her. It started with that smile, then came the laugh, and once that laugh filled the room, everybody knew Nicole was there.

As she became a woman, one of the things I admired most about her was her strength and the person she was. Nicole loved fiercely. She would stop and listen to someone’s problems or their story whether she knew them or not. It didn’t matter what was happening in her own life or where she was supposed to be. If someone needed somebody to listen, Nicole would listen. She had a heart that loved so deeply that I honestly believe she forgot to save some of that love for herself.

And I want to say something that is incredibly important to me. Nicole was more than her addiction. She was human. She was a mother, a daughter, a big sister, a granddaughter, a cousin, a niece and a friend. She was loved. She had struggles, absolutely, but those struggles were never the entirety of who she was.

One of the photographs I treasure most is one of Nicole and me from her 19th birthday. We were at a bar that isn’t even open anymore, celebrating my sweet girl, and the whole night was about Nicole. Well… until she ditched me for her friends. 😂 I knew that was coming eventually, but I still laugh about it. That night was special because we were together, celebrating her, and she was happy. Sometimes those ordinary moments become the moments you would give absolutely anything to have back.

People sometimes ask what my favourite memory of Nicole is, and honestly, I can’t choose one. I don’t want one particular day. I just want a day. Any day. I would give almost anything for one more conversation, one more Nikki hug, one more “Mama,” one more “I love you.” There are so many things I would want to ask her and so many things I would want to tell her.

If Nicole were sitting across from me today, I don’t know if I’d even be able to get the words out. I’d probably hug her so damn tight and sob like a little baby before I could say anything. Eventually, though, I know what I’d say. I’d tell her, “I fucking love you. I fucking miss you. Why the fuck did you do it? Why the fuck did you leave me alone? You are my everything.”

And yes, there were difficult years between us. There were boundaries I had to put in place, and I’ve beaten myself up plenty over those decisions. But those things were between Nicole and me. Nobody else gets to rewrite the relationship my daughter and I had. I loved my sweet girl with all my heart, and I still love her fiercely. I miss her every single day.

So today, I want people to remember the beautiful soul Nicole was. I want them to remember the girl who would stop and listen to someone who needed it, no matter who they were. I want them to remember her smile, her laugh, her stubbornness, her ridiculous sense of humour, her love of music and food, her drawings and her poems. I want them to remember the little girl who brought animals home from the sidewalk, the daughter who took care of her mama and wouldn’t let me lift a finger, and the woman who loved people with everything she had.

Because Nicole wasn’t just someone who died on September 7.

Nicole lived.

She loved. She laughed. She made people smile. She created memories. She wrote poetry. She drew. She ate an unreasonable number of kiwis. 😂 She loved her music. She loved people. She mattered.

And she still matters.

That’s why I will keep saying her name. That’s why I will keep telling her stories. That’s why I will keep showing people her smile. Remembering Nicole doesn’t mean I’m refusing to move forward. It means I’m carrying my daughter with me while I do.

So today, on her angelversary, I’m remembering my girl. Not only the day I lost her, but all the days I was lucky enough to have her.

My beautiful Nicole. My Nikki. My Sweet Girl. My Blowfish. My daughter.

And as long as I am here, her name will be spoken. 💛

Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass… it’s about finding reasons to smile while the rain is still falling.

Stay kind.

Stay grateful.

YOU Matter!

Shelly 💜

“Nicole and Mommy against the world forever!”