When my mom died I was a brat. I took having her for granted. I knew if I needed anything she’d drop everything to be there for me. Of course that’s what you’d expect from a good mother, but I deffffinitely depended on her too much. Since she died I’ve had to find my way on my own and learn to depend on myself which has been quite a journey to say the least.
Yes, I still cry whenever I think of her; I wish my kids had their Grandmom. I wish I had my mom. But losing her has made me so much stronger and for that I choose to see the bright side of loss.
I appreciate her more
Every girl who becomes a mother instantly appreciates her mother more, but I can’t tell mine that. I can’t ever send a “thanks for putting up with me” text or dial a “how did you do this?!?” call. On particularly hard days at home with three babies I sometimes think of her and try to be as patient as she was and to see the light through the dark like she did so well. I thank her aloud in my kitchen and hope she can hear me from heaven.
I love my kids harder
Whether you’re 12 or 65, losing your mom is a hell of a blow. I think I’ll always feel a little bit lost without her, but I’ll never doubt how much she loved me and how special she made life for me. I want the same for my kids. I also desperately missed the deep connection I had with her until I had my own children so I soak it up every chance I get now.
I’m not a brat anymore
When your mom dies you grow up real fast. If she were here I’d be calling her with every little thing or expecting her to help and babysit or bitching to her about how hard this is. Yes, it’s hard, but somehow I’m pulling it off on my own because that’s the only option I have without her.
It’s not all about me
I have three tiny humans who depend on me for their every need… It’s pretty much impossible for anything to be about me anymore, but that’s a really good thing and I welcome the reality check. Millions of people are suffering while I’m a free, safe woman with a $1600 laptop writing about losing her mom. Someone else has it far worse than me right now and my eyes are wide open.
I appreciate what I have
I have absolutely nothing to complain about. I have three perfect, healthy babies, I have a faithful husband who runs home to us every day, I have an adorable little house and healthy food in the fridge. Of course I love pinning gorgeous homes and the latest Gucci boots, but if I never get them I’ll still be happy and grateful.
I choose my battles
Death sure has a way of making the small things invisible. Life is too short to be angry or upset over things that aren’t worth being angry or upset over. I always remind myself of what Joel Osteen once said, “if it’s not standing between you and your God-given destiny, let it go.”
I don’t give a ship
Even some big things are invisible to me now. If no one’s going to die or get seriously injured, does it even matter? Not really.
I don’t rely on anyone
It’s easier to not rely on anyone when you don’t have anyone. I can’t even imagine how much different motherhood would be if my mom were around. She’d probably be here every day to babysit or help or to take the kids out to play so I could do something other than momming all day. I’ll never know. I’ve learned to just get stuff done and move on to the next task, the next day. If I want something done I do it myself.
I take better care of myself
It’s not about vanity anymore (it always used to be). I take care of my body because I want to live longer, I want to be healthy and fit, and want to be a great example to my kids. My mom was overweight and unhealthy when she got sick. I sometimes think, perhaps if she had made herself more of a priority she wouldn’t have gotten cancer in the first place.
I’m more ambitious
Even though she’s gone I still want my mom to be proud of me. I want her to look down from heaven and think, “she’s exactly who I prayed she’d be.” Because of this, I strive to always do what’s right, help people who need it, forgive even when it’s the last thing I want to do and let God direct my steps even when it’s excruciating to let go of control (because it is).
I appreciate the urgency of life
My mom was only 61 when she died (she would have turned 70 today). We don’t have infinite time here. Whatever we hope to accomplish can’t be half-assed or put off until the timing is better. We could die tomorrow and all those dreams and plans will die with us. What a waste. Because of this, I’m actively making more of an effort to love and to really live and to share experiences with my kids even if it means making a mess or pushing bed time back a few hours.
If you still have your mom, I beg you to please appreciate the heck out of her. Don’t just tell her you care, show her. Do stuff she wants to do. Go places and make memories with her. If she gets on your nerves, remember there are girls like me who would do anything to have her “annoying” mom even for a day.