For me, one of the most painful triggers in the early months (and even years) after my mom died was seeing other young women with their moms.
It didn’t matter where I was… in my car, at the grocery store, scrolling through Instagram, listening to a friend talk about weekend plans with their mom, it would hit me hard. Sometimes it was sadness. Sometimes it was jealousy. Sometimes it was full-on anger. Why do they get more time? Why don’t I?
I hated that it made me bitter, but I also knew that anger is a normal feeling after what had happened to me, and with the depth of grief I was feeling. A longing wrapped in injustice.
But now, something’s shifted.
It didn’t happen all at once, and I didn’t even notice it right away. But I've noticed for awhile now that when I hear about people talking about the time they spent with their mom, or I see my friends with their moms, instead of that old pang of pain, I feel... peace. Gratitude, even.
Not grief that she still had her mom. But gratitude that she knew it. That she was making memories while she could. That she wasn’t wasting it.
And when I see a mom and daughter walking together, laughing over lunch, or sitting side by side at the doctor’s office… I feel something else now. I feel a warmth. I feel glad they have each other. And I feel quietly proud of myself for how far I’ve come.
I know that this shift from pain to peace and from envy to empathy is a sign of healing. It doesn’t mean I don’t miss my mom. I always will. It just means that my grief isn’t as sharp in those moments anymore.
I’m proud of myself for making a little more room inside me - not just for loss, but for love.
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