I miss her.
I always do, but this is different. It’s a longing deeper than most days. It’s an ache that has seemed to reach new places.
The chaos and the unknown of the world have transformed my grief. It’s changed the perspective and reality of living a life with a mother who has passed.
It’s noticing all of the people missing their loved ones. It’s realizing when they are finally reunited, I won’t have that same opportunity.
Gone for now, is not the same as gone for good. Missing for awhile, isn’t the same as missing forever.
Years into my grief journey I’m still surprised by the new emotion that exposes pieces of my heart. Leaving them as open and raw as the day she left, the day she died.
New experiences, new life events, new unknowns, and new worries make me miss her in ways that are fierce and mighty. A unique heartbreak for those of us that have lost someone irreplaceable. Someone like a mother.
A unique emptiness of the motherless.
I miss her. It’s nothing new. I miss her every day, but today I miss her differently. I miss her more intensely than the day before.
I miss her. I always will, but the isolation of the world has somehow solidified her absence in new ways and my heart can feel the shift.
Grief is challenging and uncomfortable and empty. It’s a love kept alive through memories and the ache of an endless absence.
It’s gone for good.
It’s missing forever.
It’s permanent.
Permanent like the ache in my soul and the emptiness that occupies my heart. And all of it, makes me miss her.
This hit home. Us “motherless daughters” a new ache, a
new day💔💔💔
Thank you for reading my heartfelt work! Sending comfort to you, as we share the heartbreak of being motherless. <3, Chels
Thank you Chelsea,
I look forward to your posts. They speak so accurately to what goes through my heart and my head. The difference is that I cannot put them in writing the way you do, so I’m grateful that I have your writings to sound against my feelings. I lost my sister, my best friend, my confidant, my twin. She perished in the Ethiopian Airline Crash last year on March 10th. I learnt of the crash as I was preparing to go and meet her after being apart from 2 weeks (she had gone to Sudan on a work assignment). We had talked at 1am… Just before she boarded the plane… 6hrs later and she was gone. I miss her everyday… Life has never been the same.
I’m really glad that I came across your website, your writings have done so much for my state of mind and my grief journey. Thank you💗
Oh my goodness. I’m in tears reading this. I can’t imagine your pain and heartbreak. How difficult it must be to comprehend a loss of that magnitude and so unexpected. I’m so honored to have you here reading my work and taking the time to write such a kind and compassionate comment. Thank you for being here. I hope you find my website (and Facebook page) a place to feel less alone and a place that your grief is honored and seen. <3, Chels
I stumbled upon your writing and my heart broke realizing you and other young women are just starting this journey. You see I have been traveling this path for 52 years. I was 22 yrs old and my mother was 52. I’m now 74yrs old and I still talk to my mother every single day. I ache still. You encapsulated every emotion I feel still and could never explain clearly because of the lump always in the back of my throat. This time of worldwide separation has intensified my ache as I sit and wonder what my life could have been. Girls who lost their mothers are a different breed of women
Patty, your message is so heartfelt and beautiful. Thank you for reading my work and sharing pieces of your story. You described things so beautifully. I hope you continue to read my work and find love in the words. Hugs. xox, Chels