Five years.

Five years has seemed like so long.

In a way, five years ago seems like just yesterday.

So much has changed. I have changed. The world seems to still be spinning and going on, even though my life was flipped upside down.

Five years ago.

Five years should be enough time to get over loosing someone. Five years is a long time.

Yet here I am with my throat still feeling clenched tight and my heart still feeling like it has been twisted in a knot whenever I think of her.


My sweet mom

My shoulder to cry on.

The one person I called ‘just to talk.’

All of me wishes to get back some time. To go back and call her more. Go over to see her more. Appreciate her more…

I think of all that she is missing, of all that I would tell her about if I could. And it is always the everyday, simple things… Like something funny my kids said, or about burning dinner, or to brag about my kids’ grades, or complain to her about how much they were ‘too much like me’…

I think about all that she will miss. My kids’ graduations, my kids’ weddings, my grandchildren…



Cancer stole my mom.

For so long I questioned the very existence of such a horrible disease. Why in the world would God allow cancer? How could God allow someone so sweet and kind and amazing suffer?

Why death?

Although I know and believe deep down in my soul there is a purpose for everything, and that God weaves a beautiful picture from each of our lives, I still struggle to understand where something like cancer fits in.

I am not sure I will ever understand.

I am learning to realize that is ok if I don’t understand.


I am honestly still processing the last week of her life. Mostly because I tend to shove emotion deep down when it hurts too much.



Hospice was harder than I could ever explain. I can still smell the cookies that were provided for the family and remember the anxiety I felt for the hours I sat, watching to see when her chest would stop rising and falling. The sounds of labored, uneven breathing and gurney wheels squeaking down the hallway were in my dreams for a long time after she died.

Five years ago broke me.



What has the past five years taught me?

Mainly, to appreciate my kids. I want so desperately to be the very best mom I can be. I want to be there, to be able to have fun with them. I want to cherish everything. The past five years has renewed my desire for them to have the best mom they can have.

I want to be more like my mom.

The past five years has given me a true heart for the hurting.

Those who have lost.

Those who suffer deep-down inside, and all-the-while put on their smiling-face for everyone to see. Because that was me.

My heart aches for the one who has lost her child, who is watching her parent die, who has lost someone without the chance to say goodbye…

My compassion for people has changed.


I have realized life is so much more than the stuff you have and the status’ you put on Facebook. It is more than your career, or how much you have saved in your precious bank account.


My mom is remembered for her kind and compassionate heart. She is remembered for the Sunday School classes she held in her basement where she would make breakfast for everyone. She is remembered for being a listening ear, and a smiling face. She is remembered for truly caring, for being helpful and loving, a true friend.

I remember her laugh.

She would take us shopping. (I would always have to sit in the middle of the front seat of her car because I was the youngest. I always made a point to complain about that.) One time the dressing room door fell off the hinges when we were trying on clothes, and she laughed so hard she couldn’t help my sister (who was very indisposed at the time) put it back.

She was the best grandma. When she would come to Washington to visit our family, her bag was packed full of fun things for my kids. She would make crafts with them, read to them, have tea parties, take them to the park and finger paint with chocolate pudding with them.

She knew all about me. Even the bad stuff. And loved me just the same. When I called her, she always knew if something was wrong. And she knew the right words to say.

I love her.

I miss her.

Every single day.


She made me into the person I am today, and I am so very thankful. I am so extremely blessed to have had her. I cherish the time we had and the moments that made me smile.

God knew what he was doing when he gave me the mother he gave me. He knew I would need compassion and understanding. He knew I would be far too hard on myself, and gave me a mom who was accepting of me just as I am, yet knew how to challenge me to make me a better person.


He knew I would need her.


I am not sure why He decided it was her time to go. Only He sees the big picture. And I trust Him.

I choose to trust Him.


Life has gone on. It is different, but it has gone on.

Time does not heal.

God is healing me.



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