Honest to God, I have the most amazing women in my family. Starting with my mom, of course, who has always been the most fantastic, loving, incredible woman I have ever known.

I lost my mom a little over a year ago, and though the pain from losing her has never ebbed, I feel a definite sense of calm when I am around my sisters; like I am finally getting air after holding my breath for an incredibly long time.

I have 4 sisters, and it helps to know that because they knew her exactly the same way I did, what I'm feeling, they are feeling too. We talk to each other daily, though we live all over the globe. Thousands of miles may separate us, but nothing will ever interfere with our connection to each other. In our daily talks we discuss dreams about mom that we've had, our children, our fantastic dad, and the constant trials and reminders that occur after you have lost someone as instrumental in your life as our mom was in ours. All 4 of us know that we can reach out to each other no matter what, and that was my mother's most amazing gift to each of us.

After you have lost someone who played such a gigantic role in your life, it's hard to go on doing any of the normal things you used to do. Everything reminds you of that person, even the tiniest of tasks. I can't tell you how many times I have picked up my phone to call my mom or send her a picture of my kids.

I miss my mom while I'm cooking. If I wanted to try one of her recipes, or if I totally ruined what I was attempting to make, I would call my mom and she would be so excited to teach me how to make one of her favorites, or she would laugh and laugh with me while I explained just how I managed to add cumin instead of cinnamon to a from-scratch carrot cake.

I miss my mom while I play with my kids. No one loved her grandchildren more than my mom. She called her grandchildren her "littles" and was genuinely over-the-moon happy whenever she got to see them. No one could spoil a kid like my mom, and secretly, all of us loved it when our kids would go on and on about how much fun they had with her. All 7 of her grandchildren absolutely adore her and still speak of her often.

I miss my mom when I do something for myself. She used to constantly tell my sisters and I to "take care of YOU". Which is now something my older sister reminds me of almost daily. Mom used to say "how can you take care of everyone else if you don't take care of you?" A life lesson to listen to yourself and take a little time now and then to relax.

I miss my mom when it rains. She loved the rain. Whenever it rains I feel like she's right next to me, cuddled under a blanket with me, playing with my hair, telling me about when I was a kid or when she and my dad were first married. Nobody could snuggle like that lady.

I miss my mom all the time. There isn't ONE thing that doesn't remind me of her, and though it makes me sad, I wouldn't have it any other way. My mom deserves to be remembered, she was such an amazing mom and friend.

Her spirit lives on in my sisters and me. We find ourselves saying the things that she used to say, and doing the things that she used to do. We laugh when one of us does something that was "totally mom", and though we laugh, we all feel that little emptiness in the pits of our hearts open up and attempt, sometimes for the 100th time that day, to swallow us whole. We keep each other going. We keep each other sane. And most importantly, we remind each other that our mother loved us so much, she gave us sisters.

This past year has been the hardest year of my life, but because of my amazing sisters and the support they give me, I have been able to make it through year 1. Though I am in no way looking forward to year 2 without mom, I know that I can get through it because of the people by my side. If you have a sister, call her today and tell her you love her. If you have a mom, invite her over for lunch. Take the time to be with the people who love you through it all and who will be there for you when everything falls apart to help you pick up the pieces. I love you, sisters.