I Miss My Mama
I woke up with tears in my eyes today.
No dream. No trigger.
Just grief, sitting in my chest before I could even gather my thoughts.
I miss my Mama.
Some days are just like that. The loss hits fresh, even after all this time. I could be fine for days, weeks even, and today I’m struggling to keep it together. That’s how grief works—it doesn’t follow a schedule, and it definitely doesn’t ask for permission.
It’s been two years and as Mother’s Day gets closer, the feelings will probably get louder. I think about her laugh, her hugs, her bossiness. 🤣
She had a way of answering the most seemingly complex questions with simple answers – like “people are crazy.”
I think about how she showed up for our family, held it down even when it wasn’t easy, and made us feel safe just by being there. She was truly heaven-sent. Steady, kind, strong in quiet ways. The kind of mom people pray for. And I got to have her.
That’s what makes days like today so hard. I don’t want flowers or a tribute—I just want to talk to her. Hear her voice. Tell her what’s been going on. Ask her what she thinks. Let her know how much I appreciate her, still.
She may not be here physically, but I carry her everywhere I go. In the way I love, the way I lead, the way I keep going even when life feels heavy.
She was one special lady and I miss her.
If you’re missing your Mama, I see you. What’s one thing you’d say to her if you could?
Say it anyway. Out loud. In a journal. In prayer. She’s still listening.
God, thank You for the gift of a mother’s love. For the memories that linger, the lessons that remain, and the presence we still feel even in their absence. Be near to every heart that aches this Mother’s Day.
In Jesus’ name, it IS so! Amen!