How I Honor my Mom

With the holiday season coming up the grief I feel every day gets heavier. I think anyone who has lost someone close to them knows this. Their presence is missed as we all slow down and families gather together. So far this has been one of the first holiday seasons where it doesn’t feel so daunting.

I don’t think I have ever been home longer than two months at a time since leaving for college. I think it’s one of the main reasons why my grief has been so relevant lately. I was unemployed all summer which gave me plenty of time to sit and ponder in it. At first it felt like I had “undid” all the progress I had made. How did I revert back to my younger self? Now that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. I was finally able to face my grief like an old friend or family member you have been avoiding for years.

A goal I had this summer was to be able to talk about my mom without crying or getting choked up. Something I had never done before. While listening to Stephen Colbert’s podcast with Anderson Cooper they speak about grief and the ability to share about your loved one. They say something along the lines of getting choked up when speaking about your grief means you may not have fully processed it. Me being 10 years old when my mom died and chasing any opportunity to run away I most definitely didn’t.

I think one of the biggest reasons I felt so disconnected from my mom was I didn’t know how to find her. People share these stories about how the clouds formed in a way they knew it was their loved one or how whenever they see butterflies they know their mom is with them. I never had that. It made me sad to think I could be missing an obvious sign from her. I prayed to her one day of senior year to send me a sign she’s watching. It took me a little while to catch on but I finally did. I see my mom’s spiritual presence in numbers. When I see the number 51 I know she’s around.

During the hardest and best weeks I have had this summer I consistently see 51. On the clocks, on buses, on buildings—anywhere I could find a number she was there. The day I was rejected by my dream job, I looked at the clock every hour and saw 51. The day I got my first tattoo I saw 51 everywhere I went but maybe that was her begging me not to get it. Being able to see her in my daily life again has brought me so much joy and peace.

To go with this step in my grief journey I also wanted to find ways to honor my mom and keep her spirit alive. I started with visiting her grave anytime I could and tending to it. Cleaning off her stone and adding a wreath and other decorations to brighten up her gravesite.

I have also been prioritizing movement and healthier lifestyle choices. Changing my mindset on fitness and health from losing weight or keeping up with the beauty standard, I look at it as getting stronger for my potential future. My mom lived as long as she did with stage 4 breast cancer because she had a healthy body beforehand.

Something more fun that I do is finding good deals when I’m shopping. I grew up going thrifting with my mom and chasing a great deal. One time she used so many coupons I got a free shirt. When purchasing clothes I try to thrift first or shop a sale. Getting that rush of a discount always reminds me of her.

One of my favorite ways to honor my mom is adding more color into my life. My mom loved color. She never shied away from it. I grew up in a pink house with a bright pink kitchen, a green living room, a yellow entryway and a purple basement. My childhood home was foreign to neutral colors. I dream of my future house being exactly like this. For now I add color to my outfits and the little everyday things. I have a green phone with a bright pink case, my favorite winter accessory is a multicolor knitted scarf, I love neon-colored nails and my bedding is a minimalist nightmare. I strive to be as colorful as my mom.

Doing all these things to honor my mom has made me appreciate my grief more. Grief never goes away and I will carry it with me the rest of my life. Instead of being angry and sad all the time I am learning new ways to accept it. Being able to befriend your grief and see it through the highs and lows of life helps me move through the many stages.

I am sad and angry that all my biggest accomplishments and life moments are tainted with grief, but I am grateful to be the spitting image of my mother and share so many wonderful traits with her. I don’t want my grief to make me bitter. I want my grief to open new doors and see life more empathetically.