The night my mother passed away, my sister and I, along with our families sat by her side. We held her hand as she took her last breath. We talked to her and lingered near her side until they came to take her away. It was so very sacred. I couldn’t believe she was really gone.

She had battled uterine cancer and was staying at my sister’s home to be cared for full time for the last four months. I had arrived from out of state only two weeks prior, and we spent every minute together, day and night until that moment. I slept on the floor in her room with her every single night. I felt so honored to be able to look for ways to help and care for this humble, angelic being God had blessed my broken young life with.

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I followed them outside and watched them drive away with my precious mother. How could I be OK now? She was my rock in life, my wisdom, my personal cheerleader, and many times, my comforter and best friend.

I felt I still needed her so badly.

At this time in my life, I was facing some deep personal heartaches. I had never felt so alone. I looked at the dark night sky and saw the stars twinklingthe universe had never looked so massive, and I was all alone in it. That one unconditional love I knew, was gone. I felt like an orphan wandering in a large world, a lost child. And then, through the permeating darkness, I felt it. Suddenly I knew. 

Her love was NOT  gone. It did not die with her. It lived on in me

I could always access it when I needed it most. It was part of her legacy to us. It was in every gentle touch, every kiss, every fear she had soothed, every late night she sat by my bed while her little girl cried in pain from a leg ache or a bad dream. It was in every sacrifice she made for two teenaged daughters that she raised alone.

Her love was in every one of those memories she blessed me with.

It was her beautiful memory. God had never seemed so real to me before. He was there, in my darkest night, and so was my mother’s beautiful, undying love.

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I long to give this same kind of love and legacy to my own children. I want them to feel the unconditional love I have known. This is the most wonderful and comforting gift a parent can leave for their child. Memories made from a heart full of parental love. It’s a balm for a broken, bleeding heart, and they know they will never be alone. 

Dana Treadwell

My name is Dana Treadwell. I am a mother of eight children . . . two boys and six girls. I have three teenaged girls still at home. I also have four grandchildren. I work from home, and I love writing, cooking, baking, riding our Harley Davidson Trike with my husband, and spending every moment possible with my large family!