Living Without My Mom Never Gets Easier

A Gift for Mom! 🤍

Today when I was scrolling through Facebook I came upon a post from someone who suddenly lost their father. I felt so deeply sad for them, I knew their pain . . . I know their pain. My heart sank and I felt like I was going to pass out. Tears ran down my face. I was triggered.

It has been a year and a half since I suddenly lost my mom, and some days it feels like it was so long ago. But days like today, it feels like it was just yesterday, and I am stopped in my tracks with grief. It’s amazing that somehow our minds allow us to continue with our lives even when a major part of it gets taken away.

One life seems to stop, and another one begins. A new life without them.

Don’t get me wrong, I think of my mom every single day. I miss her smell, her hugs. Her overwhelmingly loud squeals when she was excited. I miss the struggles, the tension, the pain that we never had a chance to work through. I miss it all.

RELATED: The Day She Dies

When she died, I started to wear her clothes, and I’ve continued almost daily since. Even the shirts I’ve put holes in wearing so often, I can’t let go because they remind me of her. Some even still smell like her. A piece of me smiles inside when it’s there, it’s like she’s with me—in a different way.

I always loved her handwriting, I used to copy it as a child—and then as a teenager to get out of class. It was so uniquely hers, and I loved it. I still do. I knew I needed it close to me, forever. I found a card she had given my husband on Father’s Day just before she died. It was the only card I hadn’t thrown out. The only one . . . let’s talk about guilt. For the record, don’t get rid of all the cards from your loved ones. Keep some. You will feel intense regret when they’re gone if you do.

Fortunately, my amazing husband saved it. It ended with “love always,” and I knew that was all I needed.

I had it tattooed on my arm, and I can see her handwriting every day. I look at my tattoo and my heart skips a beat but in a good way. I have never felt as complete without her as I do with it on my arm. The funniest part about my tattoo is how much she hated them. I like to believe she would have loved this one because of the comfort it gives me. Or maybe because it was about her. Let’s not kid ourselves, she probably would have loved that part most of all.

RELATED: If I Could Talk to the Girl Who Just Lost Her Mom

In all seriousness though, grief isn’t something that just ends. Grief doesn’t have a time limit. We grow to live with it and it stays with us as long as it needs to. Some days are easier than others, and other days, like today, feel like the world is ending because we miss them so much.

Wearing her clothes and tattooing her handwriting on my arm, those are a few things that keep me together on these dark days, but they also bring me immense joy on the good days. I’ll always miss her, I’ll always wish her life wasn’t cut short and taken from my children’s lives. But it happened, she’s gone, and I’m learning to live this new life without her, just in a way that’s uniquely mine.

Originally published on the author’s blog

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!

Britney

Britney Longarzo is the mom of four kiddos, a birth and IVF doula (when the kids finally give her some sleep), and can usually be found wrapped in a cozy robe (even in the summer). Britney writes about all things #momlife, food allergies, and grief on her blog, Birth Boobs and Babies. She has also been featured on Scary Mommy and Pregnant Chicken. You can follow her on Facebook, Instagram, and her website birthboobsandbabies.com.

She Was the Glue That Held Our Family Together

In: Grief

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

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

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

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

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

There's Power in the "I Love You" Between a Mother and Her Child

Grown Children

There's Power in the "I Love You" Between a Mother and Her Child

Today Was Lost To Grief

Grief

Living Without My Mom Never Gets Easier

One life seems to stop, and another one begins. A new life without them.

RELATED: The Day She Dies

Fortunately, my amazing husband saved it. It ended with “love always,” and I knew that was all I needed.

RELATED: If I Could Talk to the Girl Who Just Lost Her Mom

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

Britney

She Was the Glue That Held Our Family Together

My Parents Will Never See This Face

The Due Date that Never Comes

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

When I Look In the Mirror, I See My Mother

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

I Miss Having Parents

What No One Tells You about Losing a Sibling

Grief Didn’t Break Me, It Rearranged Me

I’m Learning To Be Soft and Strong

Get It Now

So God Made a Mother

Living Without My Mom Never Gets Easier

One life seems to stop, and another one begins. A new life without them.

Fortunately, my amazing husband saved it. It ended with “love always,” and I knew that was all I needed.

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

She Was the Glue That Held Our Family Together

My Parents Will Never See This Face

The Due Date that Never Comes

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

When I Look In the Mirror, I See My Mother

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

I Miss Having Parents

What No One Tells You about Losing a Sibling

Grief Didn’t Break Me, It Rearranged Me

I’m Learning To Be Soft and Strong

Previous Post

Next Post

You May Also Like