The kind that you feel to your very core. The kind that stops you in your tracks. The kind that makes you lose your appetite, your direction, your joy. The kind that turns your entire world upside down. The kind that pulls you back into bed and drains you- of everything.
Four years of that kind of grief.
Here’s some things I’ve learned about grief in the past four years:
It SUCKS. It takes your happiness and your spirit and it CHANGES you. I’m not the same person I was before I lost my mom. I’m just not. A big part of me has changed. I’ve seen things I can’t unsee. I’ve experienced things I can’t forget (cancer is so unkind). I went through some very difficult things that make me see things a little different now.
Grief changes. And it comes in waves. And it’s all-consuming sometimes, and then slowly, as the days go on and the years go on, it changes in itself. It comes less frequently. The waves still come, they still crash into you and pull you under, but it’s less than it was before.
But another thing I’ve learned: This doesn’t mean that it’s less important. This doesn’t mean you miss her or love her any less. I was so scared when people who had experienced this before me would tell me that “it gets easier.” I was scared that that meant I would forget her, or that I would love her less and I didn’t want that. I fought to never let that happen. But now I see, the words “It gets easier” hold so much behind them. You never forget, you never stop loving, you still hurt. I still ache and yearn for her to be here, with us. I still wish she wasn’t gone. Every day. But it just becomes a little easier to bear. Time does that. Thank God for time.
And then there’s also this: My grief, for me personally, has become much easier to bear because it has strengthened my faith. I know that my mom is in Heaven. I know that I will see her again. I know that she’s with us- not in person but in spirit. I can feel her. So I hold onto that. I hold onto the hope that we’ll meet again. I hold onto the trust I have in Jesus and the truth that only He can comfort me.
And He does. And so the tears come less frequently. The waves are less all-consuming. And I get through today, the anniversary of my mama’s departure into heaven. And I’m comforted.
But my heart still hurts.
xo
More posts on grief: 3 years | 2 years | one year
Diane
“It comes in waves”. Such a good description. And how proud your mom must be watching over you with your own babies, especially between you and your little girl.
Katie
Thank you, Diane! :) I know she is so, so proud.
xo
Hailey
Thank you for describing this so eloquently, though I’m so sorry you have to. I lost my dad to cancer 1.5 years ago, on Halloween so I unfortuntely get how these sad holidays are really tough, and it was and has been just awful. But it too has strengthened me and my faith and I know we will be with them again. Prayers for your healing and comfort and happy memories today. Xoxo
Katie
I’m so sad to hear about your dad, Hailey. Lots of love to you. These holidays will never be the same, that’s for sure. Prayers coming your way, too, sweet girl.
xo
Anna Lyon
I have never been so thankful for heaven and the hope we have in Jesus after my grandpa passed away. What a glorious hope…knowing we will join them one day in perfect peace with no pain or tears!
Katie
Glorious, glorious hope!!! Yes!!!
xo
Christie
Praying for you today, Katie. I can’t imagine the pain, but pray that the Lord prepares me for the day that I have to grieve the loss of my parents.
But, I’m thanking Him for the hope that we have in the cross, today. That death for the believer only means eternity with Him. Praying that you can continue to rest in that truth until you see her again.
~Christie
Katie
Thank you so much, Christie. You are a blessing!!
xo
Sarah
Oh Katie, I cry every time I read these eloquently written posts about your mother. It is just so unimaginable. You are so strong and such an amazing mother to your own children. They will know your mum so well from all the wonderful stories I’m sure you will be telling them as they grow.
Thinking of you on such a hard day xx
Katie
Sarah, thank you for such kind words!! You are so sweet! Thank you thank you.
xo
Leah Goetz
I shared this with a friend of mine who is experiencing true waves of grief this month, as it has been a few years since her mom has passed. Thank you so much for posting this. <3 <3
Katie
Oh, I hope it was a small comfort to your friend. Thank you for sharing!!
xo
Ali
Katie-I’m sure you get a lot of these. My mom passed away from cancer a month ago. I discovered your blog when she was first diagnosed and always felt a comfort when visiting your site. I have two little ones as well (a 3 year old girl and 3 month old boy) and your words hit so close to home. Cancer just sucks. It is so ugly. The suffering is unimaginable and unbearable. The hole it leaves is un-fillable (is that a word?). I hate being a part of this club. This mom-less club. I too take comfort in knowing she is in heaven and my babies have a personal guardian angel. Keep the posts coming. I know they are painful, but they are bringing so much to others.
Katie
Oh, wow, Ali. Thank you for sharing. I’m so sad to hear about your mom. Please, if you ever need anyone to talk to, email me at [email protected]. I’ve been through it, and it’s just comforting to know you aren’t alone. You’re right about the hole: it’ll always be there. It’s the worst club, I agree. But know that you are NOT alone. And we’ve got our own angels now, which as hard as it is, can be a small comfort too. So much love being sent your way.
xo
Sarah
A thousand times, YES— to all of this. I just hit the 5 year mark to losing my dad last week. I definitely have felt all of these things. The only comfort there is is knowing Jesus.. Knowing that our parents are with Him & that one day we’ll all be reunited. Praying for you today, girl!
Katie
Oh, Sarah, I’m so sorry. Hugs to you, sweet girl. You’re right that we have the ultimate comfort, though!! Thanks for your prayers- they’re coming right back to you!!
xo
Shannon
*hugs*
Thank you for sharing….putting grief into words is so difficult. The pain never fully stops, regardless of how long its been. I find the phrase “Some people come into our lives and leave footprints on our hearts and we are never ever the same” by Flavia Weedn to be incredibly accurate.
Keeping you & your family in my thoughts and prayers today
*hugs*
Katie
I love that quote so much!! Definitely truth right there. So much truth.
xo
Brittany Ann
Hugs gorgeous. Grieving means we cared, we loved/love and we miss something or someone. Thank you for being so open about your grief. It’s so easy to do quietly, behind closed doors. You’re so brave to share your experience and pain. Thank you for being so honest, open and raw.
<3 hugs to you, friend I've never met but feel like I have.
Katie
I love that so much- thanks for your sweet comment, friend.
xo
Amanda Charles
Beautiful post, Katie. I am coming up on my nephew’s birthday next month, he would be 16 this year. He was the most incredible old soul that we lost way too soon in a tragic house fire 3 years ago. It still leaves me breathless and so incredibly sad when I think of his sweet little voice and his late night texts to me. He will never know so many experiences we all have had in life and I get angry sometimes when I think about it. My only solace is that God has his reasons and I just need to maintain my faith that he knows what is best for everyone. May your memories always remind you of how amazing your relationship was with your beautiful Mom and what it taught you for your sweet little babies.
Jennifer
I love this post. I lost my father unexpectedly this past June. Much like your relationship with your mother, my dad and I were extremely close. Your post about dealing with your grief 4 years later is so helpful for me who is still dealing with the everyday ‘waves’ after only 8 months. Ironic enough the weekend prior to my father passing away he bought me a painting for my house that was of the ocean with the phrase “the waves will wash it all away.” I love that print due to when the grief does hit, like you said, it feels like you are drowning in it….and each time the waves hit a little less hard. When the grief is heavy I always tell myself to be so thankful I had such an amazing father, a man that my son still refers to as his hero, so many sadly don’t have those types of relationships with their parents. Thank you again for sharing your grief process you have endured with losing your mother, from me personally, it truly is helpful for me who is going through the process as well.
Katie
I’m so sad to hear of your dad, Jennifer. What an incredible gift- so so beautiful and something you will absoultely always cherish. I think he knew you would need it… I love what you said- it truly is a gift and we were so blessed to have such incredible parents whom we love so so much! Definitely hard to think when the grief hits hard, but something to comfort us, too. Lots of love to you!
xo
Jim w
Grief has no timeline , and takes over your life …….Its been 3 years since my sister died of breast caner , and I still can’t talk about it……sure ,some days are better than others , but its hard to trust happiness again……..Never saw this day coming , and certainly never mentally prepared for the grieving period …….Hoping someday I will be at peace with it, but its a slow painful process….