A Gift for Mom! 🤍

A friend told me what we’re all going through with this pandemic is like a grieving process. I don’t think, until she said that to me, that I really let myself be honest with my own feelings and accept where I was myself in the grieving process of this abrupt change to life.

I can remember 9/11 happening and where I was. I always tell my students there was life before 9/11 and life after, because those like me who lived decades before and decades after know it’s different than it was before. But I don’t feel like our life change was as sudden for everyone as it’s going to be with this pandemic. And though many like me may have clear memories of 9/11, there wasn’t a direct impact on every single one of us. We grieved for what others lost, but many of us didn’t personally lose anything ourselves.

But this is different. We’ve all lost in this.

Every single person is impacted, and as much as we all just wish to go back to normal, it won’t be the same normal. It’ll be some kind of different new normal. Maybe, hopefully, a better normal, but life, as it was, is abruptly over.

And we will all grieve that in different ways for different reasons.

RELATED: In Times Like These, It’s OK To Cry

But as someone who has actively and willingly sought change in life, I know whether it’s wanted or not, change always comes with growing pains and grief of what is lost in the process.

When this started several weeks ago, I was definitely in the denial phase of the grief process. Without getting into the politics of it all I don’t think many of us were looking at months of isolation, yet that’s the very real reality we’re looking at now.

Then there’s the anger phase. Oh, yes, I have definitely felt the anger. I’ve let it out in angry outbursts, in picking fights, in passive aggressive behaviors that show there’s an angry hostile side that goes with the nicer one most know and, I’m sure, prefer.

Have I reached the bargaining phase of my grief yet? I don’t know. I’ve prayed for God’s patience and guidance in getting me sanely through this. I’ve prayed for this to not take the lives of those I love or those they love. But honestly, the first thing I think I did accept was for whatever reason, this is God’s will. Every hard spot in life I believe God brings us to for a reason and for me personally, what I needed most at first was guidance to see through my denial and anger.

Depression? As someone who’s battled depressive episodes before I know when the things that help me manage it—a busy, productive fully-lived life—were put on pause I knew I’d struggle here. My anxiety and depression bring rage. My life no longer has its schedule. We’ve had to cancel the things we enjoy as a family. Home is where the most stress that brings out my anger is, and now I’m trapped there indefinitely. I fear the situation will ignite my anger and create problems within my family that will make us all prefer to forget this whole experience. So when I feel the emotions starting to boil with nowhere to escape, I sleep a lot—which I know is a major symptom of depression.

RELATED: Sadness Comes To Visit

I need purpose, I need structure, I need to engage with other people, I need to feel like we’re living life to the fullest rather than passively watching time tick by. So, yes, the depression side of of the grieving process of letting my old life go has definitely been felt.

As for the final phase of grief—acceptance—I’m not there yet.

Sometimes, when I’ve gone through other tough times in my life, I can’t get to acceptance until I know the end result and my own personal plan for overcoming and dealing with the end result. There are just endless unanswered questions right now and unfortunately, I worry those will keep me from reaching the acceptance phase until this is all over and the dust settles with what’s left of our old life as we venture out to rebuild.

As we’re all stumbling around with our emotions right now though, there is no mourning the wrong things here. We all need to feel our feelings in this and our kids need to see us feel our feelings with our disappointment, sadness, worry, and anger. Burying our hurt feelings only leads to bitterness and resentment and blocks the path to healing. Our children have feelings about all of this right now too, so by feeling our own emotions and what we’re grieving that we’ve lost, maybe they will realize it’s OK to feel and talk about their own feelings in what they’re missing.

God saw the need for this pause.

My church has always been nature. I always find myself back in nature, searching for that quiet peace that I know awaits me there where I’ve always believed His presence to be. It was there that I let myself cry the other day. It’s where I released my anger and bitterness and mourned for what we’re all losing and prayed that like many hardships so many of us face again and again, we’ll come out the other side of this stronger and better.

Easter is typically the time of the year we visit the church and this year so many churches will sit empty. But maybe the rising is all of us this time. All of us rising up out of this to do better and be better than we were.

Just like a parent sends her child to his room to think about behavior, maybe we all needed this time to do some serious rethinking. Maybe He’s waiting for all of us to stop fighting amongst ourselves and end our national and international divides and come together to figure this out.

Maybe rather this being the end of what used to be maybe this is the new beginning of what we’ll come to be.

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!

Angela Williams Glenn

Angela Williams Glenn writes about the struggles and joys of motherhood. Her book Moms, Monsters, Media, and Margaritas examines the expectations verse the realities of motherhood in our modern day digital era and her book Letters to a Daughter is an interactive journal for mothers to their daughters. She’s also been published with Chicken Soup for the Soul, TAAVI Village, Bored Teachers, and Filter Free Parents. You can find her humorous and uplifting stories on Facebook page.

She Was the Glue That Held Our Family Together

In: Grief
Woman holding fish

They say you don’t know what you have until it’s gone. I found that to be most true when my grandma passed. Like many grandmas, she was the best. She was kind and tender, but firm when she needed to be. She gave her time freely and used her baking talent to bless others. She had little and needed little, yet she had a way of drawing people together. There wasn’t a day I can remember when someone didn’t call her or stop by. She seemed to have all the answers and somehow knew how to fix almost any problem....

Keep Reading

My Parents Will Never See This Face

In: Grief
Woman with sunglasses shown in rear view mirror

You’ve had that moment, right? That moment when you don’t recognize the woman standing in front of you. Her hair is grayer. The skin around her eyes is a bit darker. Even without noticing the small details, that face is different. It’s aged. And as I stared at her yesterday afternoon, all dolled up and nowhere to go, it dawned on me: My parents will never see this version of me. My mom will never get to see hands that look like hers. She’ll never recognize the wrinkles or the sun spots. My father-in-law joked about gray hair with my...

Keep Reading

The Due Date that Never Comes

In: Grief, Loss, Miscarriage
Woman walking down path

It is not often talked about. I completely understand why, but when going through something so heartbreaking and devastating, women shouldn’t have to suffer alone or in silence. If you’ve gone through it, you probably already know what I’m referring to – miscarriage. It is the reason many couples don’t tell people they are expecting until after the first trimester. It is so unfortunately common that one in four women will experience a miscarriage in their lifetime. According to the National Institutes of Health, 15-20 percent of pregnancies will end in miscarriage, and it is the most common pregnancy complication...

Keep Reading

Repotting Myself: What My One‑Armed Grandpa Taught Me About Growing Anyway

In: Grief, Living
Black and white photo of older man in garden

I was never meant to be a plant person. I’m the woman who can kill a succulent on the way home from the store. Once, a fern sighed in my direction and gave up. That is my spiritual gift. My grandpa Dominic would have laughed—hard. He loved to laugh. And sing hymns passionately in Italian. He was an Italian immigrant who lost his arm working in a mill, and still, he woke up every morning and dressed like dignity itself. He shopped for my grandma. He fixed what was broken. And he tended the biggest, happiest garden you’ve ever seen....

Keep Reading

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