Where She Still Lives.
Grief, memory, and the quiet places my mother left behind.
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My therapist often reminds me that there’s a benefit to everything—if you’re willing to look for it. At first, I didn’t really understand what she meant. How could anything good come from the messy, painful parts of life? How could loss offer anything but heartbreak? And then my mom died. In that unbearable moment, I…
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Today is Mother’s Day, and it feels like the first one without my mother. Last year at this time, I was moving through a thick fog of denial—the kind that wraps itself around grief like a protective blanket. Everything felt unreal and I couldn’t fully grasp that she was gone. This year, the fog has…
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Depression has always been a quiet passenger of mine. Anxiety rides along, too—those two have been constant companions, unwelcome but familiar. For a long time, I managed to keep moving with them in tow and even became good at it. “High-functioning,” people would say. But after my mother died, everything changed. Depression didn’t just ride…
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My mother died a year ago today.How is that possible? How is it possible that I’ve spent 365 days missing her? That I haven’t heard her voice or held her hand in all that time? Grief plays strange tricks with time. When you lose the person who made you—who held you, loved you, shaped you—time…
Where She Still Lives. 