What I Wish I Had Expressed to My Mother Before Her Passing

Adult human female anatomy diagram chartAt home insemination

Every day, I feel the weight of your absence. It’s been over a decade since you left us, yet some moments make it seem like just yesterday when the nurse in her teal scrubs delivered that heart-wrenching message: “She’s gone.” In that instant, you slipped away from me, leaving behind unspoken words and a void that can never be filled.

You always perceived me as a daddy’s girl, but that changed when I entered high school. Unbeknownst to you, you became my anchor during those transformative years. The line between mother and friend faded, and while I never voiced it, you were not just my mother; you were my closest companion. My friends, like Mia and Sarah, were fun and supportive, but it was with you that I shared my deepest moments—shopping for dresses, skipping class, or crafting spirit wear. You were always the one I turned to, and no one else could ever replace the space you occupied in my heart.

Do you remember those nights in middle school when I desperately wanted to stay over at my friends’ houses? You thought it was because I was embarrassed of where we lived or even ashamed of you due to your illness. I assured you otherwise, but I never conveyed just how mistaken you were. There was never a moment I could be ashamed of you. Your struggles were a part of you, yet they never defined you. You lived life to the fullest, even in pain. You loved fiercely, and I admired you for it. I wish I had found the words to express my pride.

I noticed the sacrifices you made, even if I failed to mention them. You wore old clothes so I could have new ones. You sent me out with friends using coins you scavenged around the house, always ensuring I didn’t miss out. You dragged yourself to games and shopping trips when all you craved was rest. You gave everything to me, and I regret not saying thank you while you were here. I whisper those words at your grave, hoping you hear them now.

In my eyes, you always came first, Mom. You were my world, yet your humility prevented you from seeing it. At 18, I wasn’t one to share my feelings, but I am now. I find solace in the quiet moments when grief washes over me, whispering how much I miss you. I know you can’t hear me, but it helps me cope.

You embodied everything good in my life—love, kindness, and warmth. You were my comfort food, laughter, and encouragement all in one. You were the voice that told me I was beautiful, the push to keep striving, and the safety of home. You were everything I wanted to hold onto, and I never expressed it.

Now, it’s too late to tell you. You are in a place I can’t reach, and I’m navigating a world you don’t inhabit anymore. Yet, I will honor your memory by sharing your love with others. I will face my challenges with a smile and rise each time I fall. I aim to be the kind, loving person you raised me to be for my son, though I know it won’t be easy. Your shoes are difficult to fill, but I am committed to living out the values you instilled in me.

It’s the least I can do.

For more insights on home insemination and pregnancy, check out resources like Make a Mom’s guide and CCRM IVF’s blog. Additionally, for a deeper understanding of medical evidence related to this topic, refer to Understanding Evidence-Based Medicine.

In summary, this heartfelt reflection highlights the unexpressed sentiments and profound bond between a daughter and her mother, illustrating the impact of love, sacrifice, and memory.