Growing up, I never thought that I would experience the death of a loved one. Even though my mom had been battling cancer on and off for seven years, the thought of me losing my mom before I graduated high school never crossed my mind.

My mom had always been a fighter. She was the strongest woman I have ever known, and her persistence and strength is something I admire to this day. I always thought that she would keep fighting against cancer and eventually beat it. But, three days before my seventeenth Christmas, it took her life.

I debated on writing about this topic for a while because I’ve never really opened up about this loss. People have always been amazed at how I was able to bounce back so quickly from a situation as devastating as losing my mom — my high school counselor even asked me how I was able to drag myself to school the week after and my only response was, “If I miss school, I’ll have to make up work, and that’s more stressful than just showing up.” People thought I was strong, but in reality, I felt uncomfortable knowing people were empathizing with me when they couldn’t truly understand.

To be frank, the changes I experienced in my life after her passing weren’t immediate. Part of it may have just been my inability to process her death, but most of it was because I had gone through my entire adolescence without a mother who actively played a physical role in my life like my friends did. She was first diagnosed with cancer when I was ten, and went into remission a year later only for it to come back worse by the time I was fourteen. This meant that a big chunk of my childhood consisted of me growing up independently, as most of my family’s attention was on taking care of my mom.

My house quickly changed from an ordinary house to a house full of wheelchairs, ramps, baby monitors, and even an electric stairlift. My dad’s time was spent mostly at work or at the hospital, leaving me home alone to take on my responsibilities independently. Over the course of seven years, I became severely independent, refusing to rely on other people for even the smallest things, just because I felt like I had no other choice. I wouldn’t let others pity me and strived to keep moving forward and accomplishing my goals on my own. Most of my major memories from high school — defining moments, per se — didn’t actively involve my family. I once thought that was fine, but as time passed, I realized I wish I had experienced more major events from high school with my family to look back on.

When she passed away, I wasn’t sure what I missed. I definitely missed having my mom around, but nothing too specific. I couldn’t miss her homemade cooking because I hadn’t had it in years. I couldn’t miss how she would send me off to school dances because she had never done so. I couldn’t miss her helping me with homework because she was rarely able to sit up long enough to help me study. I couldn’t miss her taking me shopping or doing my hair and makeup or any of the typical “mom-and-daughter” stuff, because it had been so long. I didn’t miss any specific memories, so what did I miss?

What I realized a few months later was that it wasn’t the memories that I missed. I definitely missed the presence of my mother, but what was more present in my life was the grief and devastation of knowing that I would never be able to live those moments with my mom again. Although I hadn’t experienced many of the classic “mom-and-daughter” moments like my friends did, it was now certain that I would never get the chance to experience them again. And that was what hurt the most — the overwhelming sadness knowing that there is now a void in my heart that will never be able to be filled with anything else besides the presence of my mom.

There are days where I will be completely fine, going through my daily routine and knowing that I can’t come home to my mom doesn’t affect me at all. However, there are also the days where I hate myself for not spending more time with her while I could and dwell on the fact that the last time I saw her alive was the day before she passed. I still hesitate to depend on others and continue to wish my mom could be physically present at all my future major life events, but I am genuinely content and at ease knowing that my mom is watching me grow and accomplish the goals I would talk about so passionately to her from up above.