Ten Years Without Her, a Lifetime Because of Her

Today marks ten years since I lost my mom.

When friends lose their mothers, I often return to the comforting truth behind a line by E. E. Cummings: the people we love remain with us because we carry their hearts within our own.

A decade later, I still believe that with my whole heart.

My mother was the quiet superhero of my childhood. That does not mean we always understood each other or saw the world in the same way. Mothers and daughters can love one another deeply while still occasionally standing on opposite sides of a conversation—or a life decision.

But as I have grown older, I have come to understand her differently.

Each year, when I look in the mirror, I see more of her face looking back at me—the beauty she never had the confidence to recognize in herself. When I need encouragement or have an especially important day ahead of me, I clasp her gold chain around my neck and spray on a little Chanel No. 5. For just a moment, the familiar fragrance makes me feel as though she is beside me, ready to walk through the day with me.

I look at my children, nieces and nephew and imagine how proudly she would be cheering them on. I know her face would have lit up as she met her great-grandchildren. She would have celebrated births, worried over struggles and delighted in the ordinary details. 

There have also been moments during the past decade when I have quietly looked toward the heavens and felt grateful for what she was spared.

She would have felt terribly isolated during the pandemic. She would have been profoundly lost as so many of her siblings, in-laws and close friends passed away. She would not have enjoyed growing older if it meant losing her independence or becoming limited in what she could do. Sometimes love means wishing someone could still be here, and sometimes it means being thankful that they did not have to endure everything that came afterward.

I hope she would be proud of the life I have built. I hope my accomplishments would have quieted some of the fears she carried about the entrepreneurial path I chose. I believe she would still worry—it was part of how she loved—but I also believe she would see that I found my way.

What I wish I could tell her most is that she still helps me navigate life every day.

She is in the strength I call upon when something feels impossible. She is in the way I care for people, prepare for every possibility and keep moving even when I am tired. She is in the face I see in the mirror and the fragrance I wear when I need to feel brave.

Ten years is a long time to live without your mother.

And yet, after ten years, I know she has never entirely left me. I carry her heart within mine, and I feel her love beside me every day.