11/21/24 was the 3yr anniversary of my mom’s death
It's hard to believe it's already been three years since my incredible mom passed away. November 21st, forever etched in my heart, marks another year without her physical presence. While the initial raw pain has softened, the ache of missing her is still very real, just different. People often ask if it gets easier, and honestly, it's not about 'easier' – it's about learning to carry the grief, to integrate it into your life without letting it consume you. This year, I've found myself looking through old photo albums more than ever, especially those beautiful vintage photos of her. Seeing her joyful smile as a young woman, the elegance in her collared dress in those black and white shots, and even the radiant bride in her wedding dress—it brings both tears and a profound sense of gratitude for the life she lived and shared with us. Each picture tells a story, a tiny chapter of her amazing journey, and it helps me feel connected to all the different phases of her life. Mourning a parent is a journey with no map. For me, the three-year mark feels significant. It’s a time when you really start to feel her legacy, not just her absence. I've been reflecting on how her strength, kindness, and even her unique sense of humor continue to shape who I am today. I often find myself doing things she loved, or making decisions based on what I imagine she would have advised. It's a quiet, comforting way of keeping her close. This year, I didn't want the anniversary to just be about sadness. I wanted to celebrate her life, her spirit. I spent the day revisiting places she loved, playing her favorite music, and sharing memories with family. We even pulled out some of her beautiful formal dresses from the past, just to remember her vibrant style and the elegant woman she was. It’s amazing how much comfort those tangible connections bring, making her feel present in a different way. One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned is that grief isn't linear. Some days, it feels like it happened yesterday, and others, I can recall her voice and laugh with vivid clarity, almost as if she’s in the room. The questions like 'how many months has it been?' fade, replaced by a deeper understanding of enduring love that transcends time. It's not about counting the days or months, but about cherishing every single memory. I've realized that honoring her isn't just about the big anniversaries, but the small, everyday moments where I feel her presence – a certain smell, a song on the radio, or a piece of advice I heard her say countless times. If you're also navigating the loss of a parent, especially at a similar milestone, know that your feelings are valid. It's okay to still feel the pain, and it's okay to find joy and remembrance amidst the sorrow. My mom was truly a beauty queen in my eyes, inside and out. Her memory continues to inspire me every single day, and I hope sharing my journey helps someone else feel a little less alone.
