11/08/2025
Remembering My Mom 🩷
33 years ago today my mom quietly passed away after a long battle with .
It was a cold November Saturday in Kansas City. Mom and Dad were living in our small rental home in the Waldo neighborhood. Hospice had been coming to the house for about six months—helping manage Mom’s pain, bringing comfort, and offering compassion that I’ll never forget. I’ll always be grateful for Hospice—for their empathy, their grace, and the dignity they bring to the dying. I truly believe Hospice workers are one way God sends angels to Earth. 👼
That morning, I peeked into Mom’s room. She was sleeping so peacefully, so heavenly-like, that I didn’t want to wake her. She had been in so much pain, and I was glad she was finally resting. I decided to let her sleep. I don’t regret that choice—but I do regret not touching her hand, fixing her pillows, or whispering that I loved her. You know, the small physical things you miss so much once someone is gone. 💔
I didn’t know that would be the last time I’d see her alive. Later that day, Dad called to tell me that Mom had slipped out of her earthly body for good. 💔
My mom and I had a complicated relationship, and when she passed, so much was left unsaid. I miss her deeply—but more than anything, I grieved the relationship we never had the chance to heal or grow. I spent years processing that pain—working through regret, sadness, and the ache of what never got to be. The hardest part wasn’t just losing her—it was realizing our chance to make peace had gone with her.
I also regret that I have only a handful of pictures of my mom. I wish I’d carried a camera everywhere and captured more memories.
I know this may sound cliché, but from a sincere, loving place deep in my heart ❤️ I want to gently remind you of a few things:
❣️ Seek peace or absolution if it supports your healing.
Forgiveness is increasingly recognized as an optional personal choice, not a necessary prerequisite for healing. Modern trauma therapy reminds us that true healing can take many forms—and that forgiveness should never come at the expense of your own well-being or safety. You don’t have to forgive someone who hurt you. Instead, I invite you to find your version of peace, closure, or acceptance. Do it while they are still alive if you can; it’s so much harder once they’re gone. Not all mothers are easy to love, and not all relationships are easy to mend. Whatever your journey looks like, I wish you deep, gentle healing. 💜
❣️ Live your best life.
My mom was only 47 when she passed. In many ways, she was just beginning to understand herself and what really mattered.
❣️ Take pictures and video.
Yes, even selfies. Someday, someone you love will miss you terribly, and those photos and video will help them heal.
I love you, Mom. 💖 And love to all of you, my . May you find peace, healing, and love wherever you are on your journey.
✝️ Peace ✌️ Love ❤️ and yoga y’all 🙏🏼 💜🕊☮️☯️ 🤠
