A Gift for Mom! 🤍

Have you even been broken? Knocked down so quickly, so efficiently, that you are engulfed in that moment of time. That moment when you’re crumbled on the floor. Devastated. Lost. How? Why? The pain cuts deep. A betrayal, a lie, an act or a mistake that turns your world around and breaks you instantly into so many pieces that you aren’t sure you will ever be able to pick them up again. If you can even find them…if you can even recognize the essence of what you were.

But, somehow, in some way, you stand up. You gather your pieces and you pull them together, in a new uncomfortable way. A way that you don’t understand and that you don’t recognize or yet trust.

You pray. You feel. You heal. You do everything to begin moving forward…and one day you do. You feel your strength returning and you feel the pieces mending back together.

You work to forgive.

When you hurt this deeply, it’s always from someone close to you. Someone you’ve trusted down to your soul, with every piece of your heart, body and mind. A mother. A father. A husband or wife. A child. A friend. Someone that is so ingrained in you, that you can’t move past them. You don’t want to move past them.

Whenever you love, you open yourself up to the possibility of pain. You make yourself vulnerable; love requires it. After a loss, the act of moving on and forgiving isn’t as instant as the heartbreak. Your world can crumble in seconds, but it can take months, years, to be rebuilt.

Even when you say the words – I forgive you – it’s still an ongoing battle. Forgiveness isn’t a checkbox that you mark and move on from. It’s not an instant transformation back to the old way of doing things. It’s a decision and the choice of a different future. It’s a process and a path; an act of love and sacrifice. It isn’t easy and in many ways it’s initially opening yourself up again and again to that pain. Reliving the past in order to process it and move on is harder than reliving it to keep a hold on anger or resentment. It’s not easy for those in the trenches of forgiveness and love. It’s a delicate dance of two steps forward and one step back. Sometimes 3 steps back.

But even in the midst of pain and heartbreak, hope can thrive and the vision of what could be lives on. Maybe that’s the gift in pain – the ability to be feel a sliver of hope and to learn that no matter how broken, no matter how devastated, that you can stand back up. You can step forward and you can, through the process of forgiveness, live on. You can experience light, love and joy without the heavy burden of a past situation.

Hope often starts as a small seed but it will grow when nurtured, and what a gift that is. It’s a reminder that in even the hardest of times, you can grown stronger, you can become more, and you can experience all depths of love – the good, the grand, and the hurt.

Love always has and always will be so much more than just the good stuff. It will always carry deeper feelings and it will always bring you through situations of joy and pain that you never knew was possible. Forgiveness and love will always go hand in hand due to the imperfect nature of us all. Choosing to forgive is choosing to love. And love, never fails.

So God Made a Grandmother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A GRANDMA

Order Now!

Amy Bellows

Amy Bellows, Ph.D. is a freelance writer living in the Midwest with her husband and their 3 children. She currently juggles the roles of wife, mom, step-mom, and a full-time corporate career while squeezing in writing between hockey practices and late night feedings. You can find her at http://continuedoptimism.com/ or on Twitter.

When I Look In the Mirror, I See My Mother

In: Grief
Woman with mother smiling in older photo

Recently, whenever I look in the mirror, I see a strong resemblance to my mother.  People always said I looked like her, but I never really saw it until now. I think it may be because you always think of your parents as being older than you are. At the age of 61, I am now only two years away from the age my mother was when she died. The only good thing about dying young is that everyone will remember you that way.  I have only known my mom as the vibrant, personable, and active woman she was. Well,...

Keep Reading

I Lost My Daughter on Mother’s Day: 3 Truths I’m Believing Today

In: Grief, Loss, Motherhood
Woman and young daughter smiling

Editor’s note: This post discusses child loss Child loss changes Mother’s Day. My 19-month-old, Julia, died suddenly on Mother’s Day in 2024. Three months later, her autopsy revealed she had B-cell Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia (B-ALL, also known as SUDNIC). Julia died a week after we did an embryo transfer at an IVF clinic in an attempt to have a second child. We found out three days after Julia’s death that the embryo did not make it either. Six months later, we did another embryo transfer that succeeded, and I now have an 8-month-old daughter, Lucy Mei (“Mei Mei” means “little...

Keep Reading

I Miss Having Parents

In: Grief
Grown daughter posing between smiling parents

I have been living with the ache of loss for so long that I truly don’t remember what it feels like not to carry it. Sometimes it rests quietly beneath my ribs, dormant and almost polite. Other times it rises without warning—on an ordinary Tuesday afternoon, in the middle of a coffee line—and cuts straight through me. Today, it was a song. I was waiting for my coffee when “Pictures of You” by The Cure drifted through the café speakers. I hadn’t heard it in 20 years. In my twenties, it meant heartbreak—young love unraveling, relationships ending before they were...

Keep Reading

What No One Tells You about Losing a Sibling

In: Grief

Nobody tells you that when you lose a sibling, your entire childhood flashes before your eyes. There’s no better witness to what you experienced growing up than that one person who was standing nearby for all of it. And when they’re gone, a part of that childhood and a part of that story goes with them, because it was only ever known between the two of you. There’s no last chance to say, “Remember when?” or to laugh about the things that made you laugh to tears together, a million times at the kitchen table. There’s no last conversation about...

Keep Reading

Grief Didn’t Break Me, It Rearranged Me

In: Grief
Sad woman looking off to the side

I survived losing my father after his long, grueling battle with cancer. It was one of the most difficult seasons of my life. I had a front row seat to watch cancer pick him apart piece by piece. When you lose a parent, you lose a part of yourself. They say time heals all wounds, but you never stop missing the good ones, and there are days when it feels like it just happened. By the grace of God, I survived, but I will always miss my father. Then, almost a decade later, I lost the career that helped me...

Keep Reading

I’m Learning To Be Soft and Strong

In: Grief
Woman sitting and crying on floor

During the weeks we cared for my grandmother in hospice, survival mode felt necessary. There were medications to track. Visitors to update. Logistics to manage. I remember sitting on the couch that served as my makeshift bed and listening to the rhythmic hissing and puffing of the oxygen machine one night. While my mom showered off the day, I texted my sister updates and sent my husband a quick message of love. I could still smell the lavender candle we had lit earlier in the day to mask medical scents. The house was quiet, but my mind wasn’t. I was...

Keep Reading

The Legacy Our Mothers Leave Is In the Details

In: Grief
Woman's hands holding beautifully wrapped small gift

It has been two months and nine days since my mom passed away. The first several weeks were spent on the details and logistics of planning her service. She passed in December, so once her beautiful service had passed, I busied myself with the preparations for Christmas. By mid-February, I finally began to process some feelings of grief on a deeper level. The quiet of this less-busy season is allowing the grief to soak in a bit more. Not the big things; not the obvious, grief-heavy reminders that stop me in my tracks. Instead, I’ve been noticing the small things....

Keep Reading

You Never Get Over Losing Your Mother

In: Grief
Woman and grown daughter smiling

It’s been 10 years since I last heard my mother’s voice. Ten years since I could pick up the phone and ask a question I already knew the answer to, just to hear her say it anyway. Ten years since someone loved me in that very specific, unconditional, occasionally annoying way that only a mother can. My mom died in 2015. And while “passed away” sounds softer, more polite, the truth is that she left. Suddenly. Permanently. With no forwarding address. She was gone. What I’ve learned in the decade since is not what I expected. I thought the biggest lesson...

Keep Reading

My Husband Is By My Side Through Every Storm

In: Grief, Marriage
Man with arm around woman's chair

The year 2025 began as a quiet storm. I was slipping into the fog of depression while navigating the early chaos of perimenopause, and some days simply getting out of bed felt impossible. My thoughts felt dark and heavy, my body unfamiliar, my energy nonexistent, and my moods uncontrollable. And yet, in the haze, there was one constant: my husband. He noticed the subtle shifts I barely acknowledged. The sighs, the quiet retreats into myself, the moments I almost broke. Instead of judgment or frustration, he offered presence. He held space for my struggle without trying to “fix” it, and...

Keep Reading

Losing My Mom Shaped Me As a Mother

In: Grief
Woman hugging young child, back view

Becoming a mother has a way of bringing old wounds back to the surface, even ones you believed had healed. I never imagined grief would surface so strongly in my motherhood journey. I thought it was something you carried silently, something that faded with time. But becoming a mother felt like my loss rising to its feet and saying, I’m still here There are moments when I reach for my phone to call my mom, only to be met with the reminder that I can’t. I want to ask her if what I’m feeling is normal, if the exhaustion softens,...

Keep Reading