Dear Mom,

I don’t know much about the other side other than what the Bible has to say about heaven and being dead. If your faith in Christ, His death and resurrection, are as solid as I think they were, well then I know where you are, but beyond the brief descriptions of a place the defies words, well I’ve got nothing. I don’t know if you can see us, hear us, know what is going on here, or if, in God’s glorious presence, you’d even care. But here, down here in the physical world, it sucks.

I have no problem living alone at all. I’m not lonely, being an introvert this living alone thing is just fine with me. But I do have issue with you not being here with me. You were an introvert of sorts too, treasuring your alone time and you never minded living alone before life shifted and you ended up living with me and Boo again. And cats, oh how you loved (total sarcasm) those cats! But I know how much you loved us all being together again in those last 8 years of your life. 8 wonderful years of crazy memories that we all have now, but we don’t have you.

Most days are pretty good, mom. I sleep good, have since you left us in fact. That first night I wrapped in your prayer shawl and fell asleep. Okay a little wine might have assisted me in that one. In fact I had to back off that fruit of the vine, as I know with the family history it would be entirely too easy to try to fill the void in my heart and soul with it. I know that truly only Christ fills that hole, but wine was able to numb some of the pain and help keep the painful thoughts hidden. But that is no way to honor you or grieve. Cousin Mary is going through it all too, as I’m sure you recall, as she is only about 2 weeks ahead of me in this journey. Sadly on a different ship than mine, but sailing the same tricky sea of loss. It helps to have her to talk too, hopefully I am a help to her as well.

Once in a while something will trigger tears, and I suddenly miss you more than I can say. I let them flow and then just like that they are gone again. I MIGHT be working more hours just to stay busy, or getting lost in a good novel (5 so far in the past 3 weeks). Many days are just going through the motions once I leave work. There I can love on people and care for them, but when I leave and come home to where I thought we’d be together a few more months…well that is different. Oh I enjoy sitting outside watching the sun set, when it isn’t too hot anyway, or hanging out with Boo on her patio, crocheting and listening to music, or lost in one of those books in the corner of the couch. I look forward to the cousins dinners because during those times I can laugh and enjoy others who miss you too, and who have gone through the loss of their mom so they can help.

19598742_1451064548312398_1923680622368278396_nOne year ago today, we celebrated Christmas…in July. We were told you only had a few weeks left and we knew you wanted one more Christmas so we decked the halls and the whole family came just as if it were Christmas Eve! Oh the fun we had that day. We celebrated your birthday too, thinking you’d not make it to 74yo in September. And then you did. And then Thanksgiving, and then really Christmas. New Years…a last snow fall of winter. I got used to you beating the odds, mom, so when we left that afternoon for a quick, maybe 45 minute round trip grocery run, the last thing I expected was to come home to chaos, cops, fire fighters, you in heaven and your body on the floor. This was just not how it was supposed to be. Had I only known you were 10 minutes from leaving us I’d have stayed here and been with you when you slipped away. I’d have soaked up those last moments like a sponge! But I missed them, gone forever. 😦

I’m okay mom, really I am. Well maybe not entirely, but I will be alright, I promise. In time I’ll learn to live with this pain, and the hole left behind. But for this moment, I’m just going to cry and hurt, and mourn the coming holidays that will only include memories of ones past. As my niece put it, you knew life before me, but I’ve never knew life without you. And learning how to do life with just your memory in my heart, well it sucks.


  1. What a beautiful post. Hold those imprints she left within you and tap into her when you need to. She was one helluva a beautiful woman who left the world a much more beautiful place with her presence and admittedly a darker place when she transitioned to heaven. Thank God for her imprints that we can still grasp onto.

    • Thanks Sherrie!!! She loved you, and I’m so thankful for your presence in her life!

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