A Gift for Mom! 🤍
SearchSearch
SearchSearch

Grief, Loss

My Mom’s Death Was Expected, But It Didn’t Hurt Any Less

  • 2  Minute Read
Selfie of mother and grown daughter
Image via Lauren Dykovitz

How many times have you heard someone say, “My loved one died. Well, she was sick and we knew it was coming, but still . . .”?

Why do we feel the need to offer that explanation?

Why do we feel the need to minimize our loss by saying that it was expected?

RELATED: The Day She Dies

Why do we diminish our own grief like that?

The fact that my mom was sick for 10 years and that she was dying for over two months does not make her any less dead.

She still died.

She is still gone.

It is still an immense loss.

Even I, myself, thought it might not be so bad when my mom passed. I thought all of the years of illness and loss had somehow prepared me for the final loss. I thought it might come as a relief. I thought it might not be that hard.

I was wrong.

RELATED: The Day You Realize Your Mom is Really Gone

When someone loses a loved one suddenly and unexpectedly, we are heartbroken right along with them. We understand it may be quite some time before they process the loss and begin to move forward with their own lives.

When someone loses a loved one who has been sick for a long time or a parent or grandparent who is well into their 90s, we are somewhat comforted by the fact they saw it coming. We do not expect them to grieve as hard or for as long. We expect them to “be over it by now.”

No.

That’s not how it works.

A loss does not have to meet any specific requirements to qualify as hard.

Loss is loss.

Death is death.

Grief is grief.

It all comes in many different forms.

We need to stop minimizing the grief of an expected loss.

RELATED: Watching A Parent Battle Cancer Is Hell On Earth Torture

Just because we knew it was coming does not mean it hurts any less.

When your loved one’s battle finally comes to an end, please do not minimize your loss to make other people more comfortable.

Do not diminish your grief.

Own it.

It is proof of your love.

Originally published on the author’s Facebook page

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!

Lauren Dykovitz profile image Articles by Lauren Dykovitz

Lauren Dykovitz

Lauren Dykovitz is a writer and author. She lives in New Jersey with her husband and two black labs. Her mom, Jerie, was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease in 2010 at age 62. Lauren was only 25 years old at the time. Jerie passed away in April 2020 after a ten-year battle with Alzheimer's. Lauren writes about her experience on her blog, Life, Love, and Alzheimer’s. She has also been a contributing writer for several other Alzheimer’s blogs and websites. Lauren self-published her first book, Learning to Weather the Storm: A Story of Life, Love, and Alzheimer's. She is also a member of AlzAuthors, a group of authors who have written books about Alzheimer’s and dementia. Please visit lifeloveandalzheimers.com to read more about Lauren’s journey.

Facebook: Lauren Dykovitz Instagram: Lauren Dykovitz

When I Look In the Mirror, I See My Mother
In: Grief
Woman with mother smiling in older photo
by Rhonda Chiger

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
by Kelly Aalseth

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
by Marissa Bader

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
by Allison Marie

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
by Lisa Ingrassia

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
by Jessica Taylor

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
by Kathy Wetsell

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
by Louisa Vilardi

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
by Kristyna Moore

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
by Joanna Weeks

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

Fatherhood

Outdoor Nature Scavenger Hunt Ideas for Dads and Kids

Next Post

There Are Two Halves of a Mama's Heart

Child

There Are Two Halves of a Mama's Heart

You May Also Like

Searching for Peace in the Sorrow

Grief

Searching for Peace in the Sorrow

When All You Feel This Christmas is Blue

Grief, Mental Health

When All You Feel This Christmas is Blue

There’s No Rule Book For Grieving the Loss of a Child

Grief, Loss, Motherhood

There’s No Rule Book For Grieving the Loss of a Child

Even As You Hold Your Rainbow, it’s OK To Cry For the Storm

Baby, Grief, Loss, Motherhood

Even As You Hold Your Rainbow, it’s OK To Cry For the Storm

Memories From My Grandmother’s House

Grief

Memories From My Grandmother’s House

When Pregnancy Doesn’t Come Easily

Motherhood

When Pregnancy Doesn’t Come Easily

Keeping Her Memory Alive Hurts As It Heals

Grief

Keeping Her Memory Alive Hurts As It Heals

To My Mom When She Was Diagnosed With Cancer

Cancer

To My Mom When She Was Diagnosed With Cancer