This was the third New Year’s since Mom passed, and while this one felt a little less heavy than the last, it’s still tough.
There was no “Happy New Year” text from Mom that popped up on my phone, filled with emojis and hearts. And there's no dreaming about what the year has in store for us as a family.
The thing that really gets me this year is realizing that Mom's death is now closer to three years ago than two, and that just feels... weird. Like, how is that even possible? Grief messes with your sense of time. Some days it feels like she was just here, and other days it feels like I’ve been missing her forever.
New Year’s used to feel exciting - a fresh start, a clean slate, all those cliché things. Now, it’s more of a mixed bag. It’s a reminder of the years I’ll keep moving through without her. But at the same time, I’m noticing small shifts. This year feels just a little less raw than last year, and maybe that’s a sign I’m learning how to carry this grief. I’m figuring out how to keep her close in new ways, even if it’s not the same.
So here I am, stepping into another year without her. It’s not the New Year I would have picked, but it’s the one I’ve got. And somehow, I’m finding my way, one step at a time.
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