We buried my mom three years ago today.
I want to hug both women in the photo below, but the girl on the right—I want to grab her and squeeze her and tell her she’s going to be okay.
Getting ready for her mom’s funeral, wearing her mom’s sweater in her mom’s favorite color.
Standing in her new bedroom in her new house, full of unpacked moving boxes.
Holding so much hurt and pain in her heart—not only for the loss of her mom and the loss of a proper funeral, but also caused by people she never thought would hurt her in that way.
If she only knew that day would bring so much more hurt and pain…
Looking back at the girl in this photo from three years ago today, I can almost feel her pain and sadness.
But sometimes, I forget.
I can’t seem to remember all that happened or how I got through it—but I did.
And here I am, stronger today for everything I’ve been through.
I will never be grateful for losing my mom to Alzheimer’s or for all of the pain that came along with the journey, but I am grateful for everything it taught me and for the woman it made me become.
I am who I am because of it all.
And I know my mom would be so damn proud.
*If this post resonated with you, you should consider joining the Alzheimer’s Daughters Club!
**If you liked this post, you would love my book “When Only Love Remains: Surviving My Mom’s Battle with Early Onset Alzheimer’s.” It’s available on all Amazon marketplaces.