5 Years Sure Does Seem Like a Long Time

5 years ago at about this exact time, Michael got a phone call. He walked out to the sidewalk as I unloaded groceries. I saw him bend down to his knees while he walked and I heard him say “no.” I started to shake knowing something was wrong but not knowing who he was talking about. I knew it was either going to be his grandparents or mine. Someone was gone. How would I console him through this loss with a new baby?

As he walked back to the house he asked me to put the groceries down and go inside. So, I knew it was mine. I asked him what it was as I stood in the living room. Just give me the news. Just tell me and let’s get it over with. He wouldn’t do it. He asked me again to please sit down. On the 3rd time, I complied knowing it wasn’t my grandma, whom I had expected the call about for years.

He looked at me with tear-filled eyes and said something I’ll never in my entire life forget “I’m going to tell you something that’s the hardest thing I’ll ever have to tell you.” I knew it was her. “Your mom died today.” Lights Out. Everything is different from this moment on in my life. Everything.

I looked down at myself as I threw whatever it was I was nervously playing with in my hands onto the coffee table. I watched myself put my hands over my face and yell into them. Michael sits motionless across from me trying like hell to keep himself together. I remember asking “what? how? what happened?” My mind went to car accident…of course it did. Just 2 weeks before she had been at my house with me while we brought her 3rd granddaughter, Kennedy, into the world. She was perfectly healthy. She was 53. But it wasn’t a car accident, she was at home.

I remember phone calls…the saddest of which were to my two little brothers. I remember wondering how we were going to get 2 1-year-olds and a newborn to Arizona for a funeral when I’m still recovering from my surgery. I can’t do this, I STILL LOOK PREGNANT! I remember snapping right into work mode, though. Efficient as ever. “I can handle this, I’ll figure it all out and fix it. Right now, I need to feed the baby, we should eat our dinner, we need to get the groceries…” My brain was half shut off. True story. I could feel without feeling. I was it complete and total shock. I could feel myself start to cry throughout the night and yet, for some reason I couldn’t get myself to believe it was true. I had to have logical conversations with myself. “Lindsay, no, you can’t call her to tell her what’s going on, she isn’t there, you already know this.” I couldn’t tell which end was up, really. Foggy almost. Just walking around foggy. I retained my ability to do the things that I HAD to do for the family to survive but I wasn’t in my right mind. It wasn’t until her viewing when I walked into a room and saw her laying on a table and I for some strange reason was shocked to see her there. I knew why we were going but I didn’t expect to really see her. I can’t explain that feeling. That’s when it became real, I think. I saw her and she was gone. There was no part of my mom laying on that table save for a few recognizable physical traits I had known all my life…her hands. I had to see her hands.

It turns out my healthy, works-out-everyday, mom had died of a massive heart attack due to the buildup of scar tissue in her heart from a previous unknown heart attack. She didn’t know it, but looking back, I do. I remember it. I remember everything about that day. She was probably my exact age right now, maybe a year or two younger. I can’t put a finger on my exact age but I was in Junior High, I think, when she told me she couldn’t move and was sitting in her bathroom. She asked me to go get her some medicine from the convenience store and I rode my bike down there to get it.

She was under massive amounts of stress at that time, financial, emotional, relationships, her role as a mother, work…massive. She held it all together, though. Efficient and unfeeling as ever…”I can handle this, I’ll figure it all out and fix it.” Sounds familiar. There’s nothing that can convince me that it didn’t kill her.

mom2

Five years ago in an instant everything was different. I used to think things might go back but they won’t, I’m realizing. Everything is still different. I cry less each year but there’s a big hole where only a mom can go in my soul and I know now that it just won’t be the same. Victory is just a little less sweet. At holidays, there’s just a little less laughter. During the girls events, theres a little less excitement. They don’t know it, but I do.  I think that’s why I’m so afraid to fly right now. I can’t leave this feeling of loss on my kids. For some reason my brain as calculated that a plane crash is the most-likely scenario in which I might not live to see my girls grow up. Totally illogical when you say it out loud, I realize but it boils down to grief, I think.  By far the hardest thing I’ve walked through and my childhood wasn’t a cakewalk. I continue to walk though it. Like wading through thick molasses.

I wonder what would I be doing if she were still here and each time I land on the fact that i probably wouldn’t have had the capacity to do what I’m doing today. It’s through and because of the broken parts of me that I believe almost anything is possible. Not because she didn’t tell me with her example, but because I didn’t know I could do it until she wasn’t there to catch me if I didn’t.

Manifesto

I don’t know if there’s one moment in your life where everything changes. Where you just know you’re going to want something you’ll never be able to have for the rest of your life but it’s a pretty bleak place to live at times. I don’t want to paint you an all black and white picture, here. My life is still in full color. I love my family and I’m so blessed by them. I try to live a life out loud. But every October 21st I think of what could have been and if I’m honest, the way I think it should have been. I can’t say I understand why she’s gone. I hope to know it one day when I get to see her again in Heaven. Until then I’m doing my best. I try to make myself believe that she can see what’s up down here and that she’s excitedly following us though our lives and celebrating with us as good things happen. I just don’t know if I can make myself truly believe that.

Today I remember the woman, mom, grandma (Ninny), entrepreneur, friend, musician and damn good golfer my mom was. Today I remember that grief is the price I pay for knowing great love and being loved fiercely.

I hope you’ll give your mama a call and tell her you love her for no good reason except to have her hear you say it and for you to hear those words back. It’s a sweet, sweet sound.

Lindsay Teague Moreno

Showing 54 comments
  • Angie Hampton
    Reply

    So very heartbreaking and beautiful!!! Your Mom was blessed to have such an amazing daughter and what blessed times you had with her and such beautiful memories. Thoughts and prayers are with you. Xoxo

  • Angie Hampton
    Reply

    So very heartbreaking and beautiful!!! Your Mom was blessed to have such an amazing daughter and what blessed times you had with her and such beautiful memories. Thoughts and prayers are with you. Xoxo

  • Janea
    Reply

    Wow. Lindsay that was a beautiful. What a wonderful video montage of your mommy. Thank you for sharing that with your people.

  • Janea
    Reply

    Wow. Lindsay that was a beautiful. What a wonderful video montage of your mommy. Thank you for sharing that with your people.

  • b
    Reply

    I remember calling my mom – five years ago. I remember holding my newborn – knowing that you were holding yours. I remember feeling helpless – so far away but so terribly sad for my friend.

    I met her just a handful of times but I’ve seen her more than once in her daughter’s eyes. I wish I knew her better.

    Miss you, my dear friend. Hugs on this crappy day.

    XOXO,
    B

  • b
    Reply

    I remember calling my mom – five years ago. I remember holding my newborn – knowing that you were holding yours. I remember feeling helpless – so far away but so terribly sad for my friend.

    I met her just a handful of times but I’ve seen her more than once in her daughter’s eyes. I wish I knew her better.

    Miss you, my dear friend. Hugs on this crappy day.

    XOXO,
    B

  • Anna
    Reply

    your words are so incredibly familiar…going on 4 years! I too had a newborn and was moving and, and, and…I just want to say…I feel ya sista!! My dad passed away unexpectedly suddenly at age 61. Thank you for sharing!

  • Anna
    Reply

    your words are so incredibly familiar…going on 4 years! I too had a newborn and was moving and, and, and…I just want to say…I feel ya sista!! My dad passed away unexpectedly suddenly at age 61. Thank you for sharing!

  • Sheila Helm
    Reply

    I couldn’t read all of this… the first paragraph brought back a flood of memories and emotion when I was told about the loss of our son Josh. I was photographing an engagement session and just happen to need to run back to my jeep for something I had forgotten and noticed my phone had 30 missed calls from home- I knew immediately something was very wrong. I am going to keep coming back to this until I can get through it all without heart wrenching pain and sobbing! Hugs to you!!! You are continually inspiring! Thanks for sharing your heart!!!

  • Kristina
    Reply

    Beautifully written, Lindsay. This is my biggest fear, losing my mother, my best friend. She is your angel now looking down on you and your family. I truely believe she is with you in spirit. Look around and she will give you a sign. I lost my grandmother last July and everytime me and my kids are outside or we look out our back door there are always yellow butterflies fluttering around and I know she is with us watching over us. Even my kids say there’s great grandma 🙂 Lots of love!!! xo

  • Kasey
    Reply

    Thank you for sharing your mom with us. Hugs friend. Love you!

  • Stephanie MacConnell
    Reply

    What a beautiful tribute to a beautiful lady who loved life. You could see that in the pictures and in her lovely face. I’m so sorry for your loss. I feel very blessed to still have my mom at my side, something I never take for granted.

  • Tiffany
    Reply

    I am crying with you reading this. I lost someone very close to me and the hole in your heart never goes away, for me 12 years now. I truly believe she is there with you for the good and the bad and super proud of the amazing woman you are. Thanks for opening up to us and sharing these private moments.

  • Venna Anderson
    Reply

    Thank you for sharing Lindsay. Your mother was a beautiful woman. Full of life and love! You look a lot like her. Praying for you!

  • Kim
    Reply

    Wow! Thank you so much for sharing and being so vulnerable. Your mom was beautiful and I can see you in so many of her pictures. What a beautiful tribute to her.

  • anni
    Reply

    I am loving on you hard right now. I feel you. Tomorrow will be 15 years since my mom passed and the double digits do not change the void I still feel. I know that she would be enjoying every bit of the life I lead and that she surrounds me in all that I do. Every single day, I hold on tight to the memories that I had with her and all of her life lessons.

  • Denise Parker
    Reply

    What a beautiful tribute to your momma. Thank you for sharing something so personal & painful. I am so sorry for your loss. You look so much like her in many of the pictures. It makes me appreciate my mom all the more & I am going to love on her more intentionally.

  • Beth
    Reply

    Lindsay, I know exactly what you feel and are going through. I lost my mom 25 years ago when I was 6 months pregnant with our second daughter. She was in a car accident. I have gone through everything you described. I especially love the part where you said “you feel without feeling”. That is so very true. For me, it was kinda like an out of body experience if that makes sense. Will be praying for you.

  • Marv
    Reply

    You put into words what I keep trying to say. I lost my best friend a little over two years ago now. My mama was my world, truly. She was my very best friend. I had been married 9 months to the day. I had just moved closer to her. Life looked really good, you know? And then she was on her way to visit me. And the doctors think it was a blood clot. My sweet mother, gone, and I didn’t get to say goodbye. I think you expressed beautifully how hard it is. How life is good, but not the same. How I just want to call and tell her how sad I am, but the reason I am sad is because she’s gone. I hope I can be strong like you one day. I am sitting here sobbing for you, and for myself. I truly hurt for you, and wish you blessings and comfort. Thank you for writing this.

  • Gwen
    Reply

    So I had almost the same conversation with my husband 5 years ago also. My mom was on a nursing humanitarian trip to Tonga in the south pacific with 24 nursing students. I was so blessed to take them to the airport. If I would have only realized that it would be my last opportunity to see her and love on her before the tragic accident that took her life. I too can’t wait til I can see her again. Thank you for so eloquently stating your feelings in there same manner I feel.

  • Anne Leeper
    Reply

    Thank you for sharing. I lost my mom in February to a disease that took her from me 3 years before because she lived in the shadowlands of dementia and I couldn’t reach her. I was blessed because she lived to an old age but I still sit here with tears streaming down at your words and miss her all the same.

  • Amy Mathews
    Reply

    Beautifully written. Owning grief is something that is rarely talked about. Thank you for being so honest and authentic.

    And, my goodness, your mother was gorgeous.

  • Jeanie
    Reply

    I understand the hole in your heart. I lost my mom 2 1/2 years ago. I remember my phone ringing in my classroom when it never gets a signal. It said “mom” was on the phone and my heart raced as I hear my dad’s voice on the other end, and I knew something terrible was wrong. There isn’t a day that passes that I don’t think about sending her a text, or something comes up that mom would know the answer to… I get your grief and will pray for you and your sweet family as we continue to remember our precious moms, and the new normal without them. It is well with my soul.

  • Jennifer
    Reply

    Beautiful tribute to your mom. What a great way to keep her spirt alive.

  • Michelle
    Reply

    I lost my mom a year ago this month and it rocked my world in the worst possible way. I still struggle when I walk into certain stores we liked to shop together–target, home goods. Nordstrom Rack. I miss her terribly. I am so sorry for your loss. Thank you for sharing your story; it helped me to stop feeling guilty about how much I still miss my mom. Take care.

  • Elizabeth Truelove
    Reply

    i know this feeling all too well. I was my dads caretaker for most of my adult and teenage life. He struggled with many things, even attempting suicide on more than one occasion. But he was getting better. He had moved into a house away from the trailer park he lived in for over a decade and was excited about life. He called me everyday to tell me he loved me. I talked to him in Tuesday morning, August 9th, 2011. I was very busy at work that week and didn’t hear from him in Wednesday. On Thursday after he hadn’t called me I knew something was wrong. I left work in the middle of the day and sped over to his house. I didn’t yet have a key tongue new house and couldn’t get inside. Beating on the door and trying to find a window, I was paralyzed. I called the police and they came. I was on the phone with my sister who lived in Georgia at the time, trying to tell her that I knew he was gone. The neighbor across the street told me where he kept the hideakey and I burst through the garage door. The cop was outside looking for another way in. I found my daddy in his bathroom, gone. From a heart attack. The absolute worst day of my life. I have more emotions about this than I can express, but I push them all aside to keep living. There are more details that I could share, but I’m afraid if I do then I will only become a puddle of myself and not be able to function the rest of the day. But I know how you feel. It’s a hard thing to understand and accept and try and not be mad at God about. He won’t be there to walk me down the aisle or see my children when they are born. I have to find peace somehow. somehow.

  • Krystal
    Reply

    One year ago today my mom broke her ankle, it was also dislocated. November 10th of last year she pasted away of blood clots from the brake. I was picking my son up from school to come visit mom, i had been over to my parents house almost everyday since the accident cleaning and helping out around the house. I had talked to her 3 times that day and i told her ii just want to visit today no cleaning we both laughed. Not but a couple hours later i got the call from my dad. They thought heart attack. I was just leaving the school, when we got to the hospital they took us to a private room i knew it was bad. They said they were working on her. I just wanted to see her. It was the worst thing i have ever seen. Them working on her but her eyes weren’t her’s anymore. I was screaming for her to come back to us. The doctor called it at 4:15pm my dad was outside the curtain saying no over and over. I still have days that i just can’t believe she’s not here.

    I’m so sorry for your loss.

  • Olivia
    Reply

    I lost my mother when she was 53 too. She got sick 6 years prior from a common cold and it turned into necrotizing pneumonia. I was in pre-med and I remember getting on my hands and knees begging her not to leave me. I told her if she fought though I’d give up medical school and give her grandbabies. She pulled through, but that started a 6 year journey through many doctors and IVF to have my children. I was blessed to have her with me through that struggle. When my oldest was 2 and my twins were not quite 6 months old her body decided it was too tired and she passed away. I think not having my mother while going through motherhood has been one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I’m sorry you share the same heartache. I will tell you this. I know they watch over us. I know this because over a year and a half ago I had a yard sale. I found a plate she had given me years ago. It was a Preious Memories February birth plate. I laughed because although my twins were born in Feb (due in April) no one had a Feb birthday. The next day I found out I was pregnant and due 18 months exactly after she passed away. I went into labor on Feb 7th and gave birth just after midnight on Feb 8th. As I cuddled my miracle that I was told would never happen without medical intervention I could feel her there with me. I hope you’ve had at least one moment like that since you lost your mom. It does teally assure me that no matter what they are still there <3 Thank you for sharing with us!

  • Mellissa Costello
    Reply

    She was such a wonderful woman. I loved watching the slideshow. She always made regular things fun and brought laughter. I remember driving to school carpooling in the Honda while we sang songs in rounds with her. Awesome. I’m so sorry that you lost her way too soon. God’s timing is a mystery, that is for sure. Thank goodness His love is no mystery. I hope you feel it today. Love to you.

  • Kathy thomas
    Reply

    So beautifully written. I lost my mom this July due to a heart attack. She was only 63. Like u I have young children. My son is 1 years old. My dad died when I was 19 so here I am a 36 year old orphan. I am still trying to process the grief. It is hard to be young and have already gone through such huge losses. Thank you for writing what so many of us feel.

    The funny thing is I bought my young living kit this July. I was at such a low point physically and emotionally. I thought something has to help. Maybe this will be it. It has. I had a difficult relationship with my mom, somethings i think it makes the grieving process harder. Valor essential oil is helping to calm my mind, and the other oils are helping my family.

    Thank you Lindsay. You are stronger than you think.

  • Cindy
    Reply

    Thank you for sharing. I lost my mom (step but mom in everyway) at 57 from a heart attack in 2008. Time does help but life is never the same and you said it perfectly. May the Lord continue to bring you peace, comfort and joy.

  • Cheryl Taylor
    Reply

    Beautiful and heartfelt. I feel your pain. I too a motherless and lost both my mom and dad when I was 34 and it changed my life forever. The hole is there and 20 yrs later I still want to pick up the phone and call her but I can’t. So I talk to her… A lot and I know she hears me. Your mom is with you Lindsay, more than you know. She’s proud of you! Talk to her, she’ll hear you! ❤️

  • Kristina Proffitt
    Reply

    Tears. So many tears. Your words are so beautiful. Praying for you and sending you a great big ol’ hug. Your Mom IS so proud. Love you, friend.

  • Andi Nicole
    Reply

    Oh Lindsay. I cried so much through this post. I can’t imagine.. I admire you and your outlook and being positive even when it’s so difficult. My mom and I don’t have a close relationship anymore since she left us to live in a different city unexpectly so I feel a loss there. Not anything like you have. But your post made me realized I need to truly share my thoughts and hope to mend this relationship back. We just never know with this life. Many prayers for you today

  • Emily
    Reply

    Lindsay, I feel for you. To live life without the ones we love so profoundly isn’t easy. I wish I had a magic wand to take away the pain of loss for you and all of us. But life doesn’t work that way. As you share your life’s journey, your determination and strength are evident and admired. You and your mother’s relationship and love are true blessings that are indelible. I hope you will find some comfort in today feeling those blessings and focusing on all the love that IS. You dear Lindsay are loved!

  • Christy
    Reply

    Lindsay, I lost my mom 5 years ago on Mothers Day. When I tell people that, everyone says, “Oh, what an awful day to lose your mom”. I don’t think it matters really, any day is an awful day to lose a mom. I go through sections of my life where I am “okay” with it. The section that I’m in right now….not “okay”. It’s not her birthday, or the anniversary of the day she passed, or any other special day. It’s just today, October 22nd. But for some reason, right now, I need my mom. Maybe it’s because I’m now a lemondropper and I know she would be proud of the things I have accomplished and the changes I have made in my life. Maybe it’s because I know she would love to see that I am consistently going out of my comfort zone to succeed. I’m not sure why but this “section” of my life, I miss her laugh, her hugs, and her words of wisdom more than ever. I remember in those few months after she passed that I didn’t know “how” to live in a world where she didn’t exist. I’m sure you felt the same. But, we do, everyday. If not for ourselves, for our children. I bawled when I read your post because so many things you said are so true. She will never be replaced and although we still have happy days, they still aren’t as happy as they could be, no matter the circumstance. We will always miss our moms and we will always have those moments where we just don’t think we can bare that loss another second. Just know that although you feel like it, you are not alone. Thanks so much for sharing your vulnerability. You inspire me to do the same.

  • Diane
    Reply

    This is so beautiful Lindsay. In some way, I feel like I know your mom from what you’ve shared. Your mom is cheering for you every single moment <3

  • Amanda Daniels
    Reply

    Wow! What a beautiful video. I lost my mom when she was just 57 (just 2 years ago), and I still miss her every minute of every day. I didn’t lose my mom suddenly, though. I cannot image that. Althought sometimes I wish it would’ve happened that way so she didn’t suffer so much. She had breast cancer THREE times. Once at age 31, again at age 43 (stage 4 this time)….and then I was diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia when I was just 30. I had a 19 month old and a 4 year old & told that I had a 5% chance of living 8 months. My mom quit her job, and flew back & forth between her home in Illinois & my home in El Paso, Texas for TWO YEARS while I fought for my life. Against all odds, I made it through the 2 years of high dose chemo….and just 6 weeks after my last treatment, she was diagnosed again. She fought long and hard for 2 years…and our rolls switched. I was the one flying out to help her. But I wouldn’t trade those 2 years of my cancer for anything…..my girls got to spend almost every day with the most amazing woman in the world & she held my hand and helped me through all of my struggles. It brought us closer together….and god allowed us both to be well as we took care of each other. I see her in my girls, and in the animals I see that she loved so much, and in the spring and fall air & summer sun. But there’s not a special event or day that I don’t wish she could share with me. Losing a mother at any age is hard…but when they’re so young (and so amazing), it just feels harder. Thanks for sharing this post with us & for the beautiful montage. Your mother was beautiful & radiant…just like you!!!

  • Marti
    Reply

    Too real. All too real, Lindsay. In a month it will be a year since I lost my mom tragically to an aneurism. She was 63. I too had young babies and have struggled with the different life events that happen in their lives that I want to tell her about, or send her a video of. Nursing my infant during the first month after was so hard. I sobbed every.single.time. I, like you, have begun crying less, but it doesn’t hurt less. Grief is a terrible thing, but I choose not to turn it into ugly in my life, and instead help it push me to continue to become what she knew I could be; anything I ever set my mind to. Thank you for sharing your story and for being real. It hurts. I hurt with you, because I know that heart breaking pain all too well. Praying for your heart as you continue to walk through this grief.

  • Jessica Johnston
    Reply

    I am truly sorry for your loss. I lost all my grandparents at a “young age” (they all had passed when I was in my 20s) and I know the feeling all too well. Grandparents day is a hard one for me; I get mad thinking about how others have grandparents and complain about them when all I want to do is just say hi and hug mine one more time. Luckily, two of them saw me graduate high school, but none saw my graduate college, nor will they see my graduate grad school; or walk down the aisle to marry the love of my life. Nothing replaces someone who has a spot in your heart. I cannot imagine losing my parents; I don’t know how I would survive; but I know one day it will happen. Until then, I hold on to them for dear life; thinking about how their parents passed away around the same age they’re about to be soon. Even as a soon-to-be social worker interested in Geronotology, I refuse to imagine it. Try to remember all the great moments, be happy that at one moment in time your girls had their grandmother with them. And also know, that more people die from donkey rides in the Grand Canyon yearly than they do plane crashes.

  • Sherry
    Reply

    Such beautiful words and tribute to your momma. Such love evident in your words and your photos — a great reminder to take photos of your loved ones, hug those loved ones and share time with them. Grief is a hard emotion to overcome. Grief is hard. The emotion of losing my mom is still very raw as I face grief and the day of her passing just a year ago. Hugs and prayers to you and your family as you celebrate memories of your mom.

  • Mary Marker
    Reply

    Wow Lindsay. I have recently been following you because I love my new oily life and love every Lemon Dropper that has helped me along the way. I have enough oils to fill 6 kits and haven’t actually bought a kit because my blow money is 30 and I can’t wait to have that next bottle of oil. I will get a kit soon though. BEYOND that I think i was meant to follow you to read this post at this time. I lost my Dad 16 years ago, after I had just turned 19 and every word you wrote is what I felt and am feeling still today. I’d love to tell you it gets better, but some days are as painful as the first if not more, because more time has past that they have missed. More events without them, more life, without them. I know losing a mom is different than a dad but My world revolved around him. Some days I feel like I’m drowning in molasses(thanks for that perfect metaphor). I feel your pain and thanks for doing what you do. Oils have transformed my life and you inspire me to be better. Thank you.

  • Diane Young
    Reply

    So sorry for your loss Lindsay. Your mom was a beautiful lady and sounds like she was an amazing Mother. I am blessed to still have my Mother in my life and we have a wonderful relationship! My thoughts go out to you today!

  • Marie Camuccio
    Reply

    Thank you for sharing a beautiful piece of your heart! Losing our parents is losing a part of ourselves. God give you strength and peace on those difficult days.

  • Marie Camuccio
    Reply

    Thank you for sharing a beautiful piece of your heart! Losing our parents is losing a part of ourselves. God give you strength and peace on those difficult days.

  • Jennifer
    Reply

    I lost my mom December 19, 2007. I was 5 months pregnant with my first son at the time. Time softens but never fully heals the loss. I think of her every day and grieve all the joy she is missing in her grandkids and what they are missing not knowing her. I’m so very sorry for your loss.

  • Jennifer
    Reply

    I lost my mom December 19, 2007. I was 5 months pregnant with my first son at the time. Time softens but never fully heals the loss. I think of her every day and grieve all the joy she is missing in her grandkids and what they are missing not knowing her. I’m so very sorry for your loss.

  • Jenn
    Reply

    Beautiful blog. I am so grateful that you shared something so real. Your story is helping others heal. My story is not the lost of my mom but the loss of our first baby girl. Lossing her in utero, delivering her passed, was the hardest thing I have ever done. I didn’t know how to grieve but some how you do. It was so tempting to carry on, to try to create something ‘normal’ again. God gave me the strength to share my story as I walked though it. I think it was the best gift I have been given. Owning my trama has helped me more then I could have known. Everyday can be a struggle yet I know it’s worth it. God bless you and your sweet family.

  • Jenn
    Reply

    Beautiful blog. I am so grateful that you shared something so real. Your story is helping others heal. My story is not the lost of my mom but the loss of our first baby girl. Lossing her in utero, delivering her passed, was the hardest thing I have ever done. I didn’t know how to grieve but some how you do. It was so tempting to carry on, to try to create something ‘normal’ again. God gave me the strength to share my story as I walked though it. I think it was the best gift I have been given. Owning my trama has helped me more then I could have known. Everyday can be a struggle yet I know it’s worth it. God bless you and your sweet family.

  • Candy
    Reply

    I remember when you went through this- I remember reading your blog… I remember it so well because at that time, I was 2 years deep in the grief of losing my dad suddenly…and he was my person. Tuesday will be 7 years for me… and your words are so true and real about the gaping hole that is left. Thinking of you, Lindsay, and you said it so darn well.. it’s bittersweet to love and be loved so fiercely.

  • Candy
    Reply

    I remember when you went through this- I remember reading your blog… I remember it so well because at that time, I was 2 years deep in the grief of losing my dad suddenly…and he was my person. Tuesday will be 7 years for me… and your words are so true and real about the gaping hole that is left. Thinking of you, Lindsay, and you said it so darn well.. it’s bittersweet to love and be loved so fiercely.

  • language translator
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    I am so sorry to hear this! I know the feeling to well. I lost my mother two years ago. It will be three years in May 2016 she past away at 52 years old on my daughters birthday! She had colon cancer. It was horrible. I think about her every day. Every year so far it seems that I miss her even more. I am so sorry you don’t have your mom, but she is your angel now and watches over your family. You will see her again. I wish I could give you a hug. My mother’s birthday is Feb 26 so my daughter wanted to do something to celebrate, so I finally just today paid off a three day cruise on Disney cruise to Bahamas. My mom always wanted to take her grand baby on a Disney cruise , but she also struggled financial so it wasn’t an option. I am so happy to at least be able to do this with my daughter. I am also so sad because I know the whole time I will just be thinking about her. I just joined Young Living so I don’t really know you , but I felt the need to comment. With the holidays approaching us it makes it harder. I am not sure if you do this , but I have found it to be helpful to take my daughter to do something as a family on holidays or my daughters birthday so I don’t sit and think about that I don’t have my mom ,but instead build memories for my daughter. I know it is really hard on my daughter. I will keep you and your family in my thoughts and prayers!

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