You never get used to it. You never get used to the forever absence you’re left with after someone you love dies. You never get used to losing someone you love, over and over again with each new memory.
Each time, the grief sweeps in and surprises you as if you’ve never known it before.
Today was one of those moments— the kind that at first leaves you with immense pride and joy and then suddenly, without warning, hits you with a fierce sting of pain. The pain of knowing someone amazing should be here to witness this beautiful thing but also knowing that they can’t, it’s an impossible ask. The pain of looking around in constant search for someone who left for eternity before being able to experience all of this with you.
Today was one of those moments where my mom should have been here. The kind of moment and celebration she would’ve loved. The kind of moment that I will never get used to her missing. The kind of moment I never thought my kids would have to experience without her. The kind of moment that’s complicated by the mixture of immense happiness and also powerful heartbreak.
The kind of moment where grief shows up instead of one of the greatest people you’ve ever known.
And even after years of experiencing new things without my mother, I’m sometimes confused by my emotional fragility. I start to feel “off” and I wonder why, as I’m standing in a celebratory moment. I feel confused by the stirs in my soul and the longing in my heart. And then I remember, this is grief.
This is all the consequence of losing someone you love. This is the result of a forever absence. This is the life of someone who lost someone to eternity and to heaven.
I will never get used to this feeling.
I will never stop wanting her to be here.
I’ll never stop searching and aching for her in these beautiful experiences.
This is grief—sadness on happy days, emptiness in a full room, and someone always missing.
