Words with Moms

I think all of our stories begin with our mothers bringing us into this world. To give a little backstory, I was born on July 16th. I am the youngest of three and have two amazing older sisters who share the same blood as my mother. I am eternally grateful to have them both in my life and in my daughter’s life as well.
Unfortunately, my mom passed away from breast cancer, and that loss forever broke me. I was blessed to have six more precious years with her—years I will always cherish. I never imagined we would face such a tragedy at such a young age. My mom was diagnosed on my fifteenth birthday. She couldn’t bring herself to tell me that same day and tried to wait as long as she could.

My mother fought harder than anyone I’ve ever known. She lived long enough to see the birth of my first baby girl and even cut her umbilical cord. She was there to celebrate her first birthday, too. I’m thankful my daughter, Kenadee, was born two weeks early, because—ironically—my mom passed on my actual due date, July 12th. I was in disbelief that she left this world just days before my birthday—the same day she had been diagnosed years earlier.

I like to think she passed near my birthday to remind me to celebrate her life rather than grieve her loss—to show me she was still present for my first experience as a mother. I know she’s smiling down every day. When I look into my daughter’s eyes, I see her spirit shining back at me, the same light my guardian angel had in her own eyes.

To answer the writing prompt, I think my biggest fear is leaving this earth without my children—to leave them without their mom. As kids, we grow up knowing one day our parents will get older and pass away, but I never want my children to carry that same kind of grief in their hearts. I think every mother in the world can relate to that fear.

With the newest addition to my little family, I gave her a name inspired by my mother’s, a reminder that her legacy will live on for generations. That thought gives me hope—that my children will always know they come from strong, warrior women.

Whenever I see small white feathers or butterflies fluttering by, I smile and remember my mom’s gorgeous hair and cheerful smile. Those moments remind me that she is always with us, helping me through my journey of grief. I hope to pass that same positive outlook down to my daughters—that when my time comes, they will know they will see me again someday, and carry that same spirit forward to their own children, and beyond.