September 21, 2020

One year.

“My father was a house,
my mother was a home.”
― Lang Leav, Sea of Strangers


Today is the one year anniversary of my Mom's passing. 

Just writing out that sentence feels crazy to me. Crazy that she's not here. Crazy that an entire year has gone by and I survived it. There are times when everything still feels so fresh and recent in my mind, you know? But then there are moments when I reflect on those three months of being in and out of the hospital with her that almost feel like another lifetime. Another me.

Sharing my grief has never been easy. I tend to say I'm okay when asked and I tend to tell friends and family how I'm feeling after I've cried by myself at home. So to be honest, I'm not going to air out all my feelings to the Internet right now. But I did want to acknowledge this day because it's significant to me and I didn't want to pretend like it's any other day by sharing a typical post. 

Instead, I want to acknowledge that this is a tough day and it's been slowly hitting me since Saturday night. That I went to the cemetery yesterday with some of my cousins and let out some much-needed tears. That it felt good to grieve with them instead of alone. And today I'll be going to the cemetery again with small groups of family to pay our respects since we can't all be together at once right now. 

I just want to spend this day remembering her because she was an incredible Mom and I miss her every single day. And I just hope I'm living up to everything she hoped for and wanted for me. 


Love you Mommy. 


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