I still expect her to walk through my door
It’s been two months without my mom and it still doesn’t feel real. I still catch myself waiting on a text from her saying she’s coming over or just checking in like she always did. And then it hits me all over again that I’m not going to get that.
What’s been really hard is she’s already missed two of my kids’ birthdays. I kept expecting her to walk through my door like she always did saying “heeeeyyy Oma’s here.” I still hear it like she’s just about to come in any minute.
I miss the FaceTimes the most. I miss her name popping up on my phone. I miss the “I love you” at the end of every call. I still find myself thinking I’ll hear it again and then remember I won’t.
It’s the little things that are the hardest. The waiting. The looking for her. The instinct to tell her things like she’s still here. And she’s just… not.
I don’t really know how to explain it other than I just miss her all the time.
Losing a loved one, especially a parent, is one of the most profound and challenging experiences anyone can face. From my own experience, the grieving process isn’t just about coming to terms with absence but also navigating the countless everyday reminders of that person’s presence — or now, their absence. The story of waiting for a mom to walk through the door or expecting her name to pop up on your phone rings true for many people. It’s those simple, familiar interactions — like hearing "heeeeyyy Oma’s here" — that remind us of the connection we shared. When these moments stop abruptly, it leaves a void that’s hard to fill. What’s been most difficult for me is how the absence extends even into special occasions. Missed birthdays, holidays, or milestones take away not only the chance to share joy but also the comfort of having that loved one’s support and presence. It’s a reminder that grief isn’t just a moment; it’s an ongoing experience that touches every part of life. I’ve found that the technology we use to connect, like FaceTime or phone calls, can sometimes make the separation feel more tangible because it highlights the distance that grief puts between us. Even though the digital connection exists, it can’t replace the warmth or reassurance of an in-person hug or a familiar voice. From my personal journey, one way to cope with these feelings is to allow yourself to grieve in your own way without rushing the process. Keeping traditions alive, sharing stories, or even writing letters to the person you miss can be healing. Also, seeking comfort through friends, support groups, or counseling can make the path a little less lonely. If you find yourself caught in moments of waiting or expecting, remember that it’s a sign of deep love. It shows how those relationships shaped your life and continue to influence your heart. While the pain of loss doesn’t disappear quickly, the memories and love remain a powerful source of strength and connection. Grief is personal and complex, but sharing these feelings openly with those who understand can bring comfort and remind us that none of us have to face it alone.
It really is just how you explain it. Ive finally started just letting the conversation happen and oddly enough at the end I feel better. Time does not make it go away it makes me feel more pain, and I have to remind myself that the sadness is not what they want me to remember. I hope you find your way through the grief and can grow stronger. I bet she wants you to smile and dance anywhere just because.