Unprepared Heart: Saying Goodbye to Mom

It wasn’t sudden, the day we lost my mom. We had time to prepare, as she was on hospice, a word that echoed through our lives with a weighty and sobering resonance. Yet, despite the warnings and the gradual decline, the finality of her passing struck me with an unexpected force—a shock that reverberated through my very core, leaving me reeling in disbelief.

In those last days, as I watched her slowly drift away, a part of me still clung to the hope of some miracle, an irrational whisper that maybe, just maybe, she would get better. That whisper was silenced the day she passed, and the reality that she was truly gone hit me as if I had never seen it coming.

The shock wasn't just about her passing; it was about how we got to this point. How had illness so stealthily stolen her from us? How had time slipped through our fingers, turning vibrant memories into painful reminders of what we were losing? Each day on hospice brought us closer to the inevitable, yet the end, when it came, felt sudden and brutally final.

On that day, the world didn’t stop—the sun rose, people went about their lives, and yet, for me, everything had changed. I remember feeling lost in a sea of routine, performing tasks mechanically, while inside, a storm of emotions threatened to overwhelm me.

If I could have one more day with her, knowing what I know now, I would spend it much differently. I would soak in her presence, imprinting every detail of her face, her voice, her laugh into my memory. We would talk about the love she had for us, the dreams she held for our future, and the peace she hoped to find in her final journey.

I would ask her for advice, for stories of her youth, wisdom to guide me when she could no longer answer my calls. I would tell her about the impact she had on my life, ensuring she knew how deeply she was loved, and how profoundly she would be missed.

Now, as I navigate life without her, I find comfort in the legacy she left behind—a legacy of strength, resilience, and unconditional love. She taught me to face life with courage and grace, to find joy in the small moments, and to cherish the connections we make with others.

Her journey through hospice taught me about the fragility of life and the importance of saying everything that needs to be said, while we still have the chance. It reminded me that sometimes, strength means holding on, and other times, it means letting go.

In sharing this story, I reach out to others who have felt this shock, this disbelief, and this profound sense of loss. You are not alone in your grief, nor in your longing for just one more day. Together, we remember those we have lost, not just in the sadness of their departure but in the love and light they brought into our lives.

Cherishing every memory,

💗 Aimee