Over the last year, I have been inundated with emails, blog comments, instagram DMs, facebook messages, etc, from women who have lost their moms, moms who have lost their moms, dads who have lost their wives, etc. I have woken up to these messages. I’ve gone to sleep to these messages. I even got one on my birthday. If you’re here, then there’s a good chance you found me from an article I wrote on Motherly. Or, perhaps, you found me googling grieving your mother. Or, maybe you found me for my motherhood and…
We had prepared for this day, as a family. We knew what was coming. We knew what her wishes were for after. Because, there would be an after – a time when her wishes were all that was left. I held steadfast to the idea that she would outlast the numbers. When she was first diagnosed with stage 3A ovarian cancer, I remember sitting in the cream-colored chair in our living room, my knees pressing into my chest. She was sitting on the couch across the room from me with my dad. “Fifty-five percent,” I said. “If you do…
