They say time heals all wounds, but what about losing someone of significance? When does that void become filled? I’ve talked to people that have had parents pass more than 50 years ago and they still remember the day they lost them as vividly as when it happened. They say their feelings remain the same and that they still miss them just as much. They wonder every day what their life would be like if their parent was still with them.

You can call them weak for missing a parent that has passed too young. You can sympathize with them and think you know how it feels, but unless you’ve had this happened to you: you can only imagine. Most people try to compare it to a grandparent dying or a divorce, however, it’s not anything like that.

For me, the void of losing a mother will never be filled authentically. In my younger years, I’ve gone through much heartbreak (and given) without the aid of my mother. I’ve gone through moments without her guidance like my first time entering college, and I’ll soon go through my first time graduating college. In ten or fifteen years it will be the vows I share with my significant other on my wedding day… the first child I bring into the world…the first business I could potentially open… the first career I settle into… the first house I buy for my family.

The list goes on, however, the biggest changes are holidays. Holidays will never be the same without my mother and it’s not only because of the absence of that lost loved one: it’s because of the traditions she held for us. I remember being a kid and having the entire house decorated with lights and decorations. We would come home to cookies every other day and decorate the tree together. We would watch the fireman come down the block and my mother would watch my brother and me collect the candy canes he threw from the truck. Every year my mother and I bought an ornament together; it was something she did for me from the time I was born.

The year she passed though was empty. There were no lights or decorations. No cookies or tree decorating. No more ornaments. I don’t even think we had a tree put up after the first year without her and it’s because it honestly hurt too much to put it up without her.

Food isn’t the same either. I would love to cook like my mother, marry someone that does, even find a restaurant that has her home-cooked meatloaf (trust me I’ve been trying), but I never will. I’ll keep trying, but no one’s mashed potatoes are as good as hers.

Time won’t heal those wounds that I have from those awful memories of the destructive home life that came after she passed. What it will uncover though is how strong I am, and perseverant.

This goes for anyone that has lost a loved one or parent: one thing you learn is that you're perfectly capable of doing anything on your own. You're stronger because of everything that goes with it and you handle situations more gracefully. You have no idea how many times I come to face awful situations and how well I've dealt with them. For example, losing my home and dog to a house fire. Completely crazy, yet I still went to school the next day because I learned the hard way that life doesn't stop for you.

Losing a parent teaches you so much, but most importantly it teaches you about what kind of person you are in a way that most people will never know. It molds you into a rock and creates you to be your own hero.

Time won’t heal all wounds but it will show you this: it doesn't stop. It never will for anyone. You have to keep going and move on from whatever it throws at you. You are your own obstacle in life, not the situations that you experience.

So remember this at a time of hardship: Time does not heal all wounds; its objective and unkind. However, it shows you that you can control what the future holds for you because there is one, and only you can make it bright.