10 Things You Should Know If You Lost Your Mother

10 Things You Should Know If You Lost Your Mother

There Is nothing greater than a bond between a mother and child.
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On August 30th 2007, I lost the woman who gave me life unexpectedly . I was seventeen years old, just shy of my senior year of high school. My mother was gone, she was taken from us, and as a young woman, your life changes completely. Below are things you should know when it comes to losing a mother. They are based off my own personal experiences; the ups and downs, and the absolute turmoil trying to figure out who you are without your mom.



1. It's okay not to cry all the time

I cried when my mom died (naturally) but at her funeral I didn't shed a tear. It's because it didn't seem real. She was cremated so I couldn't see her. I was angry and the thought of shedding those tears made me think I was gonna be weak. You're not dead inside, you're just all done with those tears. Remember that.

2. She didn't want to leave you

I spent so many years being angry at my mother for dying because I felt abandoned. I felt abandoned by someone who didn't chose to leave. Every dream I had of her I woke up angry because she was there, I always thought she was playing prank on me. As I got older I realized that I wasn't abandoned, it was just an awful tragedy in my story.

3. Don't be afraid to talk about her

I cannot stress this enough. Talking about them repent their memory alive. And no one has a right to tell you to stop because they assume you want sympathy. no. The "I'm sorry's" are bad enough, I never wanted sympathy. I wanted support. Whenever I talk about her it helps people in my life get to know her through me and who she was. And I will never stop.

4. Don't turn to alcohol or drugs to numb your pain

I did that. I would binge drink for weeks just to get rid of that pain in my chest. It doesn't help; it may feel like it does at first but it makes matters worse. You blame others for your pain, you disassociate and you become cruel. Numbing the pain is just an easy way out. Stop and think about how you would feel if she saw you that way.

5. You will never get over it

People who don't understand will tell you to "move on, get over it" and those are the people who have never experienced a loss like that. Getting over it is like putting a band-aid on a knee scrape. You never get over it. You grow from it. You learn to live your life without your mother but you never get over it. It took me NINE YEARS to ACCEPT her death. Sometimes it takes longer for some. There will forever be a hole in my heart for the rest of my life. And that's okay.



6. It's okay to be selfish

I'm only selfish on Mother's Day. That's only because it's constantly in my face. In a store, on television. I will stare at the Mother's Day cards and want to light them on fire. I look at people who pick out cards for their mother and I want to scream at them and say, "MUST BE NICE TO HAVE A MOM!" I don't do that of course, that's just the bipolar, angry part of my brain. I choose Mother's Day as a day for myself. I will either stay in bed all day or see my family. That day is a day for me.


7. You're not crazy if only for a split second you think she's still here

I've gone to pick up the phone to call my mother at least four times since she's been gone. Your brain completely shuts down every aspect of knowing that your mother is gone and your subconscious comes through. When that four-second thought crosses my mind I snap back into reality and remember. It feels like whiplash; it gets hard to breathe for a moment because you psych yourself out for such a short amount of time.

8. Holding her ashes made me accept her death more

My mother was cremated; I also never saw her body when she died. I refused to see the dead body that once held my mother's soul. Not seeing her body kind of made things a little worse for me; it was because I didn't accept that she was gone. I had nothing to see to prove to me that she was really gone. This past summer, I bought my father a cremation necklace for his birthday and I had to put some of her ashes in it. That's when I knew that I had to face my fear, open up her urn, and look upon what is left of my mother. I remember trembling so badly, my hands wouldn't stop shaking as I unscrewed the bottom. My heart was beating so fast that it felt like I was running a marathon. As soon as I set eyes on her ashes, I stared sobbing. I stuck my entire hand in her urn and took a handful of her ashes and just held them. I don't know why; it may have seemed morbid but I think it was a form of closure for me. I was holding my mother, I was holding a part of her. I cried hysterically and just continued to stare at the gray/white ash. My hands were darkened from it, and I was too afraid to wash my hands. The thought of her going down the drain freaked me out for some reason so I just wiped my hands on my clothes. Oh well. For the first time in nine years I was closer to her than I have ever been. At the time, I knew she wasn't coming back, but to actually feel that after nine years, it all came together. That's what I needed. I needed to come face to face with her death.


9. Hold on to her things: whether it's drawings, clothes, pictures. It'll give you a better understanding on the woman who was your mother

I always hang on to things that have sentimental value; old birthday cards, pictures, a piece of clothing. I recently came across sketches that my mother did. It gave me a better understanding on what she was feeling and how her bipolar disorder affected her thinking. In all honestly, her artwork is beautiful. As a writer, I find the metaphors, the subtle hints. Running your hand over something like a drawing makes you feel like you're there with her. If you find something of hers, even if it's just a voided check, or a piece of paper with her name on it: keep it.



10. She is always with you

I'm not sure if I believe in a God but I know that there's something else besides this world. Just because she's not there physically with you, she sees you always. I always say whenever I see a monarch butterfly that it's her. That butterfly will show up at random times in my life; I had one follow me around when I was on vacation this year. It was flying all over me and I felt comfort. I felt that peace and I knew she was with me.

I know first hand what it's like to lose a mother, if you have too I can completely go on with the lists of things that will happen. You already know if you've lost her. it's a gut wrenching pain that is very hard to explain and put into words. That pain will be there forever but just know that you have become stronger through this loss and as a motherless child, you are a warrior.

Cover Image Credit: Google

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I'm The Girl Without A 'Friend Group'

And here's why I'm OK with it

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Little things remind me all the time.

For example, I'll be sitting in the lounge with the people on my floor, just talking about how everyone's days went. Someone will turn to someone else and ask something along the lines of, "When are we going to so-and-so's place tonight?" Sometimes it'll even be, "Are you ready to go to so-and-so's place now? Okay, we'll see you later, Taylor!"

It's little things like that, little things that remind me I don't have a "friend group." And it's been like that forever. I don't have the same people to keep me company 24 hours of the day, the same people to do absolutely everything with, and the same people to cling to like glue. I don't have a whole cast of characters to entertain me and care for me and support me. Sometimes, especially when it feels obvious to me, not having a "friend group" makes me feel like a waste of space. If I don't have more friends than I can count, what's the point in trying to make friends at all?

I can tell you that there is a point. As a matter of fact, just because I don't have a close-knit clique doesn't mean I don't have any friends. The friends I have come from all different walks of life, some are from my town back home and some are from across the country. I've known some of my friends for years, and others I've only known for a few months. It doesn't really matter where they come from, though. What matters is that the friends I have all entertain me, care for me, and support me. Just because I'm not in that "friend group" with all of them together doesn't mean that we can't be friends to each other.

Still, I hate avoiding sticking myself in a box, and I'm not afraid to seek out friendships. I've noticed that a lot of the people I see who consider themselves to be in a "friend group" don't really venture outside the pack very often. I've never had a pack to venture outside of, so I don't mind reaching out to new people whenever.

I'm not going to lie, when I hear people talking about all the fun they're going to have with their "friend group" over the weekend, part of me wishes I could be included in something like that. I do sometimes want to have the personality type that allows me to mesh perfectly into a clique. I couldn't tell you what it is about me, but there is some part of me that just happens to function better one-on-one with people.

I hated it all my life up until very recently, and that's because I've finally learned that not having a "friend group" is never going to be the same as not having friends.

SEE ALSO: To The Girls Who Float Between Friend Groups

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My Mom And I Do NOT Have What Lorelai And Rory Had, And For That, I'm So Thankful

But where she leads, I will follow.

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There are very few people I know who dislike the Gilmore Girls TV show. We've all admired the quiet and idyllic town of Stars Hollow and the warm and cozy feel of Luke's Diner. We've all experienced the highs and lows of Rory growing up, and we've loved choosing whether we're team Dean, Jess or Logan. We've all appreciated Rory's literary references, Sookie's love for baking and Kirk and Taylors' quirky personalities. But one of the most entertaining aspects of the show has to the dynamics between Lorelai and her daughter, Rory.

For me, Lorelai and Rory's witty and comedic banter makes the show. I can't imagine being part of such a peppy, caffeine-and-takeout-food-loving duo that always knows the funny thing to say. Wherever these two go – whether it's the town hall meeting or Luke's Diner for the third time in a day – they manage to have a ball of a time because they have each other. And honestly, who wouldn't want that? Watching this TV show has led me to idealize their seemingly-flawless mother-daughter relationship, and to examine my own.

My mom and I are on completely different planes on cultural references, so our conversations don't include jokes about the latest actors and shows. We'd want to go home to take a nap if we were to walk endlessly arm-in-arm around our own hometown, and we would be out of a house and home if we spent as much time at our local dinner as Rory and Lorelai do. Not to mention that, if my Mom and I imitated the Gilmores in consuming copious amounts of food and coffee, we'd explode.

As much as I love the Gilmore bond, I'm still glad that I got the mom that I did. Unlike Lorelai and Rory's relationship, there is a clear mother-daughter divide between us, which I have learned to appreciate. My mom has been there to guide me through both amazing and challenging times and to give me wisdom that she's learned from years of experience. She's been present to give me encouragement about how to do life and how to make friends and how to deal with that one person who's really bugging you. And she acts like a moral authority and encourages me to always be the best me that I can be.

I'm not saying Lorelai doesn't do these things – in many ways, I see her being encouraging and uplifting and altogether-awesome, just like a mom should be. But I also know that she falls into the big sister role because of the smaller age gap between her and Rory, so she fills the shoes of motherhood in a different way.

Although we're not Gilmore girls, I am still thankful for the happy home life that I have. For one thing, I'm so fortunate to have a Dad who lives in our house. My mom and dad's marriage are strong and full of love and makes a house a home. And while I understand that Rory doesn't have a stay-at-home dad as a staple (Gilmore Guys just isn't as catchy), I definitely appreciate the perks of that in my own life. Similarly, it's also really, really nice that my mom gets along well with my grandparents! Sure, we don't have weekly Friday-night dinners with them, but I'm glad that every time we do get together, we don't have awkward dinner-time arguments at the table.

And yeah, even though we aren't Rory and Gilmore, my mom is still one of my best friends. We go mall shopping until either her back gives up or we need to pick up my little brother. We sing along in the car to ABBA music and we laugh about the latest drama in our church. We go on exciting outings, like free movie showings at the library and local teahouses. I try to be interested in her historical fiction dramas, and she tries not to be shocked by my comedy shows. We spill the tea together – even though she's still not 100% sure what 'tea' means. I'd love to be a Gilmore girl, but all the same, I'm glad my mom and I aren't. She's still the Lorelai to my Rory – if Lorelai were a cardigan-clad, nap-loving woman who sneaks vegetables into our dinners. And you don't need to be a Gilmore girl to have someone you can do the adventure called life alongside with.

All in all, I'd say we are more than blessed if we have someone we can follow, where they lead.

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