The Strongest Woman I’ve Ever Known

A Letter to My Mom and Anyone Grieving a Love That Can’t Be Replaced

There are certain people who walk through this life quietly not because they’re small, but because their strength doesn’t need to scream.

My mom was one of them.

She was my hero.

The kind of woman who worked two or three jobs at a time, paid every bill, showed up for everything and somehow still managed to take me and my sister on three trips a year.

She didn’t complain. She didn’t slow down.

She just kept showing up for everyone around her, even when I knew she was exhausted.

And still… she smiled.

I Used to Think God Didn’t Deal Her a Good Hand

She gave so much.

She was honest, loyal, loving, and wise beyond measure.

Her advice? Gold. Her presence? Steady.

Her heart? Safe.

Even as a little girl, I remember praying she’d one day get to rest.

Not because she was weak — but because she deserved peace.

She was always tired. I saw it in her body.

But not once did it stop her from being everything we needed her to be.

I Didn’t Expect to Lose Her

She left behind children, grandchildren, 11 great-grandchildren, and 2 great-greats — all of whom adored her.

If anyone deserved to grow old watching her family flourish, it was her.

I’m still not sure how to live in a world where she doesn’t exist.

When bad things used to happen, I’d tell myself:

“At least I still have my mom.”

But now… that sentence doesn’t even live in my vocabulary anymore.

And it hurts in ways I can’t explain.

I Always Knew She Was My Person

When I was a child, I used to ask her if she knew when she was going to die.

She’d tell me no — only God knew.

And I remember saying something that still breaks my heart when I think about it:

“Well if He ever tells you, can you let me know? Because I want to die with you.”

Even back then, I knew…

She was the only person in this world who loved me and my sister without conditions.

And I was terrified of being left behind.

Now I’m a Mother and a Grandmother… and I Still Needed Her

I feel hopeless sometimes.

Helpless.

Like I’m just floating in a world that doesn’t make sense anymore.

No one tells you how much you’ll still need your mom — even as an adult.

There are moments I just want to pick up the phone,

ask her what to do,

or hear her voice say, “It’s going to be okay.”

And some days, it’s not okay.

To Those Who Had a Mother Like Mine

If you were blessed with a mom who was your safe space,

your backbone,

your truth-teller,

your warrior…

You know this grief.

You know how deep it runs.

You know that nothing — and no one — will ever replace her.

And to those who weren’t given that kind of love, my heart breaks for you even more.

Because I was blessed.

And that blessing shaped everything I am.

If you’re grieving your mother, know that you are not alone in this hollow, sacred ache.

Some days you’ll feel strong.

Other days you’ll fall apart in the cereal aisle.

That’s okay. That’s grief.

That’s love, still living inside you — even when she’s gone.