Menu

Dear friend,

It came like a thief...10 months almost exactly from the day she was diagnosed until the day she left us. Cancer has a way of doing that—robbing its victims and their families of life and freedom. One day we're doing life together, making plans for the future and the next we're fighting a battle for health and eventually saying goodbye.

I never imagined I'd lose my mom this way or so soon.

I couldn't have planned for it or prepared for it. Her fate swooped in like a thief and took her away before I ever had the chance to fully digest what was happening. And because of my faith I stand with peace and continue to hope but still.

FEATURED VIDEO

I am, for the first time, a mom without a mother.

I am expected to grow in my mothering but I am forced to do it alone. I cannot call her on a whim to ask questions about recipes and family traditions and how to get my kids to listen to me. I cannot express my gratitude, despite her imperfections, with lavish love. I cannot thank her for all she taught me about being a mom, both good and bad. I cannot share how much she's impacted my life, as a mom and a wife and a woman.

So dear friend who still has your mother,

Whether you walk extremely close or there's a valley of difference between you, reach out to your mother.

Whether you see eye to eye or you can't agree on much of anything, look your mother in the eyes if you can and tell her how special she is.

Whether she's loved you well or lacked in affection, tell her how much you love her and linger in love through words or embrace.

Whether she's been your role model or she's shown you what not to do, tell her how much you've learned from her.

Whether she's been a near perfect mother or a much less than perfect one, she's still here and that fact alone leaves so much potential for you both.

Call her, embrace her, lavish her with your love whether it comes easy or along with tons of baggage.

Reach out for reconciliation if you are estranged.

Reach out in compromise if you are indifferent.

Reach out with time and attention if you are busy.

Reach out with affection if you are reserved.

Reach out with lavish love even if you already do it regularly.

This time last year I never dreamed I'd be without my mom.

Please, don't let another day slip by without connecting with yours.

A version of this article was originally published on Grace For Moms.

You might also like:

When I was expecting my first child, I wanted to know everything that could possibly be in store for his first year.

I quizzed my own mom and the friends who ventured into motherhood before I did. I absorbed parenting books and articles like a sponge. I signed up for classes on childbirth, breastfeeding and even baby-led weaning. My philosophy? The more I knew, the better.

Yet, despite my best efforts, I didn't know it all. Not by a long shot. Instead, my firstborn, my husband and I had to figure it out together—day by day, challenge by challenge, triumph by triumph.

FEATURED VIDEO

The funny thing is that although I wanted to know it all, the surprises—those moments that were unique to us—were what made that first year so beautiful.

Of course, my research provided a helpful outline as I graduated from never having changed a diaper to conquering the newborn haze, my return to work, the milestones and the challenges. But while I did need much of that tactical knowledge, I also learned the value of following my baby's lead and trusting my gut.

I realized the importance of advice from fellow mamas, too. I vividly remember a conversation with a friend who had her first child shortly before I welcomed mine. My friend, who had already returned to work after maternity leave, encouraged me to be patient when introducing a bottle and to help my son get comfortable with taking that bottle from someone else.

Yes, from a logistical standpoint, that's great advice for any working mama. But I also took an incredibly important point from this conversation: This was less about the act of bottle-feeding itself, and more about what it represented for my peace of mind when I was away from my son.

This fellow mama encouraged me to honor my emotions and give myself permission to do what was best for my family—and that really set the tone for my whole approach to parenting. Because honestly, that was just the first of many big transitions during that first year, and each of them came with their own set of mixed emotions.

I felt proud and also strangely nostalgic as my baby seamlessly graduated to a sippy bottle.

I felt my baby's teething pain along with him and also felt confident that we could get through it with the right tools.

I felt relieved as my baby learned to self-soothe by finding his own pacifier and also sad to realize how quickly he was becoming his own person.



As I look back on everything now, some four years and two more kids later, I can't remember the exact day my son crawled, the project I tackled on my first day back at work, or even what his first word was. (It's written somewhere in a baby book!)

But I do remember how I felt with each milestone: the joy, the overwhelming love, the anxiety, the exhaustion and the sense of wonder. That truly was the greatest gift of the first year… and nothing could have prepared me for all those feelings.

This article was sponsored by Dr. Brown's. Thank you for supporting the brands that support Motherly and mamas.

Our Partners

My husband and I always talked about starting a family a few years after we were married so we could truly enjoy the “newlywed” phase. But that was over before it started. I was pregnant on our wedding day. Surprise!

Keep reading Show less
Life