It’s Been Two Years Since My Mom Died And I Am Still Her Daughter

Two years.

Today marks two years since my mom died.

That doesn’t even seem possible.

The time seems to both have flown by and stood still.

In the days after my mom died, I remember thinking that before I knew it a week would go by. And then a month, a year, two years.

I desperately wanted to stop time so I could stay in that moment forever—that moment where it all felt so fresh.

The loss.

The pain.

The grief.

I wanted to stay in close proximity to her death because then I was also in close proximity to her life.

Listening to the beat of her heart.

Watching the rise and fall of her chest.

Sharing space and time as mother and daughter.

I thought that the farther I got from that date, the farther I would be from her.

I have learned that while in some ways that’s true, it’s also impossible.

My mom is never far from me because she’s always in my heart—she’s a part of everything I do.

And while in those early days of loss and grief, I struggled to figure out who I was if not my mother’s daughter—who I was in a world where she no longer existed—I have learned that I am whoever I want to be.

Grief is not about being healed. It’s not about moving on. It’s about moving forward. It’s about finding a way to be an active participant in your own life again.

I believe I’ve found a way to do just that.

I no longer resist the passage of time because I know that my mom will always be near me as long as I keep her in my heart.

I no longer question who I am in this world without her because I know that I am always still becoming.

And I know that I am just as much my mother’s daughter now as I was the day she died.

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