This is the first Mother’s Day in five years that I woke up with more of an appreciation of the time I had with my mom than the void I have felt since she left.
My mom’s number one love was Jesus. The more I reflect back on her life, the more I realize that she had the deepest kind of faith—the kind that moves mountains. When I was in high school, my mom did a 40-day juice fast. I remember asking her about it, and she shared that she was wanting to go to a deeper level in her faith. Every night during those 40 days we would come home from school to her making us dinner. I was amazed at her discipline and her desire to know her Savior more intimately.
I’ve learned it’s okay to fill the void of losing her with other sources of love. I’ve sought out a deeper relationship with those she loved (and who loved her back). There’s something really special about being with people who have incredible stories and memories to share. I find great joy in spending time with my mom’s favorite people and feel connected to her through shared stories, laughter and tears.
I’ve discovered that over time, it’s normal for our lost loved one(s) to take up less of our thoughts, less of our feelings, and less of our time. Our grief timeline is proportionate to how deeply we loved someone, and the significance of the role they played in our lives. At first, the sadness and loss of my mom swallowed me whole. As time has passed, I have allowed myself to grieve deeply but also connect with memories and appreciation of who my mom was.
I embrace my moments of overwhelming grief. I find it often hits when I am driving and find myself near a place that reminds me of my mom. When the grief hits me hard, I own it. I love having a good cry and feeling the love I had and have for her in a tangible way.
I have come to value what I had over what I no longer have. I appreciate my mom even more than I did when she was alive because I now fully comprehend what a gift it was to have her as a mom. I continue to unwrap this present she left me—the memories and mysteries of her—and it’s like being snuggled up in a warm blanket, reading a page-turner by the fire on a snowy day.
The memories, stories and her legacy bring comfort to my soul. Because of who she was to me, the lens through which I see life now is a beautiful kaleidoscope of colors that were unique to her. Knowing her and being raised by her gives me a perspective by which I see everything in life—giving me a spiritual perspective and discernment that I used to admire, but now have been able to understand in my own life.
I saw the gifts she had, but only now experience them by really understanding who she was. I always knew I had an exceptional mom. I just didn’t realize that by spending time with her for fifty years, I was slowly integrating so much of who she was into my own life. I truly do carry her with me, and that realization has helped shift my grief…to gratitude.
If you know someone who could benefit from this post, please share. God carved out a path of intense healing for me and I would like to share it with as many people who need or want to hear.
An extraordinary exchange 