07/07/2026
Yesterday, I lost my mom.
She was 79. Until April, she was quite active, independent, and living life in her own way.
Then, almost overnight, breathlessness changed everything. Heart failure affected her lungs and kidneys, and for the past month she fought for every breath in the ICU.
For 29 days, my mornings had only one destination—the hospital. I would leave home by 8:30, sit outside the ICU for hours, waiting for the few precious minutes I was allowed to see her. Sometimes I simply held her hand. Sometimes I spoke to her. Sometimes I fed her the food she longed for.
In the beginning, I prayed for a miracle.
As the days passed and I watched her body endure one needle after another, one procedure after another, my prayer quietly changed.
“God… if healing is no longer possible, please don’t let her suffer anymore.”
That was the hardest prayer I have ever spoken.
Today, I don’t just miss my mother.
I miss her smile.
I miss her stubbornness.
I miss her daily complaints.
I miss her unwavering beliefs.
I miss the familiar sound of her voice calling me.
Years ago, I wanted to change her.
But life taught me something far more beautiful—to accept her exactly as she was. In that acceptance, many of the wounds between us slowly healed.
Somewhere deep inside, I knew her time with us might be short.
So I made a promise to myself.
I answered every phone call.
I listened without rushing her.
I fulfilled the little wishes she had.
I spoke to her every morning.
Not because I knew I could prevent this day…
But because I never wanted regret to become part of my grief.
And today, although I carry no guilt, I still carry immense pain.
Grief doesn’t disappear simply because you loved someone well.
You can do everything right.
You can give your time, your presence, your patience, your love.
And still…
you will miss them with every part of your heart.
If your parents are still with you, don’t wait for the “right time.”
Pick up their calls.
Listen to the same repeated stories again.
Sit with them a little longer.
Love them while they are here.
One day, those ordinary moments will become the memories you hold on to forever.
