When Your Mother Dies

No matter how old you are, losing your mother is one of life's most profound losses. Whether you are 18 or 80, there is something uniquely heartbreaking about saying goodbye to the woman who brought you into this world.

A small island rests peacefully in the center of a calm lake, encircled by mist-covered, wooded hills.

From the moment you were conceived, your mother was your first home. She carried you for nine months, nourished you, protected you, and welcomed you into life. She watched your first steps, comforted your fears, celebrated your successes, and, in countless ways both big and small, helped shape the person you became.

When she is gone, it can feel as though a giant hole has been torn through your heart. The world continues to move forward, but yours has been permanently altered.

I know that feeling all too well.

When my son died, I felt as if my heart had been ripped from my chest. Years later, when my mother died, I experienced another kind of heartbreak—different, yet equally devastating. Grief has a way of reminding us that love never truly leaves us; it simply changes form.

For nearly two years after my mother passed away, I would instinctively reach for my phone to call her whenever something exciting happened. I wanted to hear her voice, to share my news, to laugh together as we always had. Then reality would hit. She wasn't there to answer.

Even driving home from the airport became painful. For years, I had made it a habit to exit the freeway and stop by her house before going home. I wanted to see her, give her a hug, and ask if she needed anything. After she died, I caught myself taking that same exit more than once before realizing there was no reason to stop. Each time, it felt like losing her all over again.

Grief often lives in these ordinary moments. It's found in the habits we don't realize we've formed, the traditions we never questioned, and the conversations we still expect to have. Those unexpected reminders can catch us completely off guard, even years after our loved one is gone.

If you are fortunate enough to still have your mother, treasure the time you have together. Visit her. Call her. Listen to her stories, even the ones you've heard a hundred times. Tell her you love her. Life becomes busy, and we often assume there will always be another birthday, another holiday, another phone call.

One day, there won't be.

After a mother dies, many people are haunted by the "would have," "should have," and "could have" thoughts. We replay conversations, wish we had visited more often, or regret the things left unsaid. While no relationship is perfect, you can lessen those regrets by choosing today to make time, to forgive, to appreciate, and to love.

When grief comes, be gentle with yourself. Don't dwell on every mistake or missed opportunity. Instead, hold tightly to the memories that bring warmth to your heart—the laughter, the hugs, the family traditions, the wisdom she shared, and the unconditional love she gave.

Our mothers may leave this earth, but the love they poured into us never disappears. It lives on in our memories, our values, our families, and in the countless ways we continue to carry them with us every day.

The pain of losing your mother never completely disappears. Over time, however, the sharp edges soften. The tears become less frequent, and gratitude slowly begins to stand beside the sorrow. You realize that while you can no longer hold her hand, you will always carry her love in your heart.

Be well,

Shirley