7 Things I've Learned Since Losing My Mother

*This was originally written in late November 2019, but never published on my blog. Several life circumstances are different today, but this is where I was in 2019*

Last Thursday marked two years since my Mother passed from this life. That day actually went well, and I only teared up once when I said something in passing to my husband about what day it was. He already knew. I spent the day taxiing my kids to drama club, picking up my new glasses, going to dermatology appointments, and finally arriving home to work on their schoolwork. I kept busy. I was kind of proud of myself for keeping it together.

And then the next day, I was less busy.

The following day, I was a complete and total disaster. I was a hot mess. I cried for no reason, and just had to chalk it up to “I’m having a bad day.”

Not long after my Mother passed away, a friend told me, “Grief will take you by surprise. It will hit you out of nowhere.” Oh, how true are these words!

The holidays are quickly approaching and I am trying to fully participate even as I grieve. It’s not easy.

I could never imagine a world in which my Mother was not with me, but I have managed the last two years to learn a few lessons:

1. You always need your mother.

When my oldest was just a toddler, my Mother and I were sitting and watching him take his wobbly steps. It seemed that just days before he was a helpless newborn. I said, “It goes so fast. He is already walking! Before long, he won’t need me anymore!”

She said, “Courtney, he will need you. You always need your mother.”

She spoke from experience. She had lost her mother only two to three years before this conversation and knew the deep grief that accompanies that loss. She was absolutely correct. I am constantly wishing I could speak with her, text her, or just see her once more. There have been countless times that I could have used her advice in the last two years, but that has not been an option.

2. Going to her house is just too hard.

I currently live next door to my parents’ home. My Daddy still lives there. It is incredibly hard for me to go to his house. He comes here a lot and we talk daily. But, the house it just too overwhelming for me. It is filled with all the things she loved. I can’t look around me without being surrounded by thoughts and memories of her. And, right now, that is just entirely too hard. I expect her to come out of the back of the house into the living room at any moment. And, then, I remember she won’t.

3. Even good things are tinged with sadness.

There have been countless things in the last two years that have been wonderful! My kids have participated in activities and done well. We have gone on trips. We have celebrated holidays and laughed and played together. But even in those wonderful memories we are creating, I can still feel sad. She would be so proud of them! She would love to hear about the things we have done. I want so much to tell her about these things and I can’t.

4. I battle feeling that losing her was unfair.

This one is tricky. It will sneak up on me if I’m not careful. I was 35 when she was diagnosed with cancer, and 38 when she passed. I remember feeling like I was TOO YOUNG to lose my mother! But, almost as soon as I thought it, I also thought of all the people who lost their parent much younger than I was. I got THIRTY-EIGHT years with her. Some people do not get that long. I have friends who not only have their mother still living, but also still have a grandmother. It is hard not to be envious of the fact that these wonderful women are still in their lives. But, I battle that and try to replace it with joy for them and their relationships. And, I truly can feel joy for them and am so very thankful for those who share them with me!

5. I overshare.

I realized shortly after losing my Mother that I was pretty quick to mention in conversations the fact that I recently lost her, especially when I was meeting someone new. This is rather embarrassing for me to look back on, but I think I have discovered the reason. It was never to illicit pity, but almost as a warning:

“Hey, I recently lost my Mother. Please excuse me if I am {more} weird and awkward. Please pardon me if I completely zone out and appear to not be listening. Truth be told, I probably am not. I am a million miles away, thinking about her. Excuse me if I cry. It is nothing you have said or done, I am just SO, SO sad.”

6. “They did so good!”

This one is actually kind of funny and has becoming a long-running joke with my kids. A few weeks after my Mother passed away, I took my kids on a field trip to see the first act of “The Nutcracker.” I have loved "The Nutcracker" for as long as I can remember. My Mother, sister, and I went to a performance when my son was around two years old. It was something I had been anticipating for months and when I got sick THE DAY BEFORE the performance, I went to the doctor and asked them to give me shots, medicine, whatever it took to be well for the next day. We had such a great time!

So, as I took my kids to see a performance of it, I knew as soon as the first notes were played that I was in trouble. I immediately teared up and proceeded to cry the entire performance…for no reason. My daughter and son were looking on in concern and I could only say, “They did so good!” We knew no one personally in the performance, but the music, the dancing, and of course, the memories just overwhelmed me. Now, anytime I tear up watching a video or performance of anything, one of us is sure to say, “They did so good!!”

7. God didn’t make a mistake.

My Mother died of colon cancer. Unbeknownst to us, she had been having symptoms long before she saw a doctor. By the time her cancer was found, it had metastasized to multiple organs and was stage 4. There was a part of me that thought that maybe, just maybe, if she had gone to the doctor sooner, she’d still be here. But, that’s not true. God numbered her days before she was ever born. Because He determined her date of death, not one force on this earth could have prevented it. Here are some verses to explain that:

Job 14:5 (NASB): “Since his days are determined, the number of his months is with You; and You have set his limits so that he cannot pass.”

Psalm 139:16 (NASB) “Your eyes have seen my formless substance; and in Your book were written all the days that were ordained for me, when as yet there was not one of them.”

Matthew 6:27 (NASB) “And which of you by worrying can add a single day to his life’s

span?”

If we believe (and I do!) that God is Sovereign over all things, that knowledge gives us the strength and grace to face our grief. I can rest in the fact that every single thing that is allowed into my life had passed through nail-scarred hands. These things are meant for His glory and for my good.

There will be hard days. When you love deeply, you also grieve deeply.

But, my hope is not in the world or anything of this world.

It is in Jesus.

And He carries me though….even on {especially on} the hard days.