I recently had a conversation with a woman who had lost her mother around the same time I lost mine. We connected through that shared loss. It reminded me why I want us to have honest conversations about grief—not only about the day someone dies, but about the life we have to keep living afterward.
The sadness. The constant thinking about her. The feeling that a piece of you is missing.
When your mother has been such an important person in your life, losing her can change the way everything feels. There may be things you still want to tell her, questions you still want to ask, or moments when you wish you could hear her voice again.
I wanted to make room for those feelings here.
The ordinary moments can hold so much
For some women, the missing lives in the urge to pick up the phone. Something happens, and she is the person you want to tell. For others, it is a familiar meal, a quiet room, or an occasion you imagined sharing with her.
You might miss something that would seem small to anyone else. It does not have to be a milestone to matter. A relationship is made of ordinary moments, too.
And if the relationship was complicated, the loss may carry different questions. You may be grieving what you had and what you hoped might someday change. You deserve space for that experience without having to turn it into a simpler story.
You do not owe anyone a performance of strength
As women, many of us are used to being the person who keeps things moving. The work still needs doing. Someone still needs dinner. A message still needs an answer.
But being needed does not mean you have stopped needing care.
You can finish a task and still be hurting. You can want company and not feel able to talk. You can ask someone to handle dinner without explaining every feeling behind the request.
Try giving yourself one practical permission today: a task can wait, an invitation can be declined, or a responsibility can be shared. Choose something specific enough that another person can actually help with it.
“I could use a meal this week.”
“Could you check in with me on Sunday?”
“I want to talk about my mom. I don’t need advice right now.”
You are allowed to say what would help.
Give the words somewhere to go
If there is something you wish you could tell your mother, you might write it down. A sentence is enough. You could make a note on your phone, use a journal, or tell someone who knew her: “This is something I would have shared with Mom.”
This is an option, not an assignment. You do not need to write a letter, revisit photographs, or listen to saved messages before you are ready. If an activity feels too much, you can stop.
You also do not need a keepsake to prove that your relationship mattered. Some women have very little they can hold in their hands. That does not make the loss smaller.
A changed life does not have to be figured out all at once
“Your new normal” can sound like something you should be able to settle into. You may not even like the phrase. That is okay.
For today, perhaps the question can be smaller: What would make this afternoon a little more manageable?
A glass of water within reach. Something simple to eat. Someone sitting beside you. A quiet place where you are not expected to explain yourself. An appointment you have been putting off because you do not know how to start the conversation.
None of these things replaces your mother. They are ways of caring for the person who is missing her.
If a good moment arrives, you can let it be a good moment. You do not have to turn it into proof that you are finished grieving, or feel that enjoyment takes something away from your love for her.
Support belongs in this story, too
Grief and depression can overlap. Persistent low mood, loss of interest, or difficulty managing everyday life are reasons to speak with a qualified health professional. You do not need to diagnose yourself or wait until you feel worse to ask for help. The National Institute of Mental Health’s depression guide explains symptoms and care options.
At Still Becoming Wellness, I want there to be room for honest words about loss. I cannot promise a page will take the pain away. I can offer a place to begin naming it, along with ideas and resources you can return to.
My guide, When Mom Is No Longer Here, brings together reflections, practical support, and optional writing pages for women living with their mother’s absence. Explore the guide in our store when you are ready.
For now, you do not have to find a lesson in this day. You are allowed to miss her. You are allowed to need support.
With care,
Sharonda Lynn
Still Becoming Wellness
This article offers personal reflection and general education, not therapy or a diagnosis. If you may hurt yourself or cannot stay safe, call or text 988 in the U.S.; call 911 for immediate danger or a life-threatening emergency. Outside the U.S., contact local crisis or emergency services.
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