March 22, 2023: 12 things I've learned since Mom passed away

I wrote this 1 year ago on the 1 year anniversary of my mom’s passing.

1 year. 12 months. 365 days. 8,760 hours. 525,600 minutes. Mom, that's how long my heart has been beating since yours stopped. Lots of people say to handle grief one day at a time, but sometimes I've had to handle it minute by minute. And it has been a lot of minutes. They also say time helps, and I'm sure it has - but honestly, the more time passes, the more I think about all the things I wish you were here for.

I'd like to share 12 things I've learned since Mom passed, 1 for each month:

1. There are a lot of people who loved my mom, most notably for her calming presence, her kind heart, and her positive attitude.
2. Mental health is health. Death, and the ensuing grief, can absolutely be the most painful thing you will ever experience.
3. Every time I see my mom's name on a medical record, I am going to be sad. I will remember how much she was my emergency contact beyond medical records - in life - when I didn’t know how to use the self-clean feature of the oven, when I caught the flu and forgot what temperature a fever is, when I needed a puppy babysitter, or when I just had an overwhelming day and wanted to talk about it.
4. Mom did so much more for me and our family than she ever got credit for. Death is a cruel teacher, and hindsight is 20/20... I would do anything to thank her now.
5. There is a mom-sized hole in my heart that nobody can fill. In grief and mourning, you can learn how to cope with that hole, but it never actually goes away. Nobody can replace who my mom was to me, what she did for me, or the love we shared.
6. Society does not talk about death and dying enough - it is not normalized. Unfortunately, everyone will experience a significant loss at some point in their lives, and I hope that my talking about my grief makes it easier for others to recognize how significant (and normal) feeling deep emotional pain is.
7. All of your senses are involved in memory and grief, and it can be a blessing and a curse; it can be a trigger of sadness or a really happy memory. Examples: Mom's favourite artist coming on the radio, the first time I heard an ambulance siren, sitting in her spot at the island looking out into the sunset, etc.
8. My mom and I are really, really alike. Every time I look down at my hands, I see my mom's hands. It's something about the way our fingers are shaped. Sometimes I hear phrases come out of my mouth and they leave me thinking 'Mom would have said that, too' - or when someone describes something they like about me, I think to myself "I got that from my mom".
9. Sometimes death can unite people because this is a really crappy thing to experience and feel like nobody else gets. I have grown closer with people in my life because we have a shared experience of losing a parent as a young adult.
10. I really f***ing hate cancer.
11. Tomorrow really isn't promised to anyone. Young or old. Short or tall. Rich or poor. Kind or evil. I've learned to count my blessings, share appreciation for those I love, and live in the moment.
12. I love my mom so much - I am so incredibly grateful for the 29 years I was fortunate to spend with her, and even though I wish I could have had another 40, I will spend however many I have left appreciating her for who she raised me to be.

I love you, Mom. I loved and missed you yesterday, I love and miss you today, and I will love and miss you forever.