Just One Year More

Nine years ago today, the day after her 60th birthday, my mom was killed in a car accident. I was six months pregnant with my first child, her first grandchild, and I was the first one in my family to get the news. On this day last year, I decided to finally write about it, and about her.

I didn't widely share Eight Years With, Eight Years Without when I posted it last year, so I thought it would be fitting to do so today. And although I wrote it one year ago, I could have just as well written it a month ago, a week ago, an hour ago. Time is no matter. I still feel the same, and I still miss my mom... just one year more.

eight year with mom.png

Eight Years With, Eight Years Without

Originally published October 10, 2014

Eight years ago today my mom died. In an instant, a car crashed into another car and she was gone.

I had just spoken to her a couple days before. She was on a road trip with her best friend celebrating her 60th birthday weekend and had called me from a baby shop, excited to tell me about the crib bedding she had found for my soon-to-be-born baby girl. Using verbal imagery, she exuberantly tried to sell me on this expensive, over the top crib set from a store hundreds of miles away; something that I could not return or exchange if I didn't find it as perfect and dreamy as she did. As she was not known for her practicality when it came to shopping, I gently declined it before a bad cellular connection ended our call prematurely. No goodbyes were exchanged. I didnโ€™t bother trying her back, figuring I would just talk to her the next day, not knowing that would be the last time I would speak to her.  Read more>>