01/11/2025
Mom,
Today marks 26 years of learning how to do life without you.
This year, I turned the same age you were when you passed. It’s a strange feeling, this idea that I’m now older than my own mother. I wonder: would we be friends? Would we laugh at the same things, have deep talks over espresso martinis, or butt heads about the choices I make?
People often say, “She’d be so proud of you,” and I appreciate it, I do. But if I’m being honest, I think this year I probably would’ve given you a heart attack. You’d have called it “anxiety with a capital A.”
For starters, I quit my job - with no clear plan. I know you would’ve tried to talk me into something stable and “safe,” but I think you’d also see now how small it was keeping me. How necessary it was to let go so I could step into the next chapter.
I went to France...alone...for a month. I doubt you would’ve let me do that if you were still here. And if you had, I’m certain you’d have been calling every ten minutes, convinced I was about to be kidnapped off the RER. But now, I can’t help but think you were the one who nudged me to go.
If you were here, I bet you’d be praying I find “a nice guy” already. Maybe trying to set me up with someone who helped you at the grocery store. And yes, you’d be holding out for grandkids. But from where you are, maybe you see that love already surrounds me - in family, in friends, in animals, and in the strangers who’ve shown me kindness this year. Maybe you even know what love and motherhood will look like for me.
If anxiety exists in the afterlife, and you’ve been watching me spiral through this past year... I apologize. Truly. But I also hope you’ve gained a new perspective.
Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned in 26 years without a mother, it’s this:
Life is too short to play small.
Too precious to stay stuck.
Too beautiful to dim your light.
And joy? Always worth chasing.
Love you always.
