aimlee,
at some point, you will find that the fresh wound heals a bit, but that her absence comes to mind again and again when there is something you want to tell her or share with her, but she is not physically there. I still get those moments 8 years after my mother's passing. The most recent one was something my nephew, a compostion PHD candidate, told me. He took his first music lessons from my mother when he was 4 or 5 - and besides playing the piano, he and I would sing together and my mother would play. One of our favorites was La ci darem la mano from Mozart's Don Giovanni.
So, fast forward 23 years to a group of young musicians playing a benefit in New Orleans, from the roof of one of the houses in the restored musician's quarters. My nephew is at the keyboard, and he has a baritone, and a soprano with him, and not enough sheet music. The soprano says that La ci darem would good, but no music for the piano. My nephew says, I've got that covered (he has an amazing memory) ... and so they perform.
When he told me this story, I had one of those - damn, I can't tell her about this moments - shortly followed by the epiphany that perphaps it wasn't necessary. aimlee, all the good and kind things that your mother did, that my mother did, are not lost: they have gone on to make more light and happiness and goodness in the world.
When the spirit moves you, sit quietly for a moment, and then think where gifts would be appreciated. My niece helped with the clothes, but it took me over a year to completely go over her room.
Maria