Mom, I’m Still Learning How To Live Without You

Written By: Colleen George

I miss you. It’s as simple and as raw as that.
I miss the way you loved me. I miss the way your smile made me feel safe and at home. I miss the way you cared for me and about me, and that I knew you would always protect me. I miss the way you encouraged me, and the way you always held your hand out to me whenever life knocked me down.
I miss how special you were you were to me, and I miss how special you made me feel.
I miss hearing your voice on the other end of the phone. I miss hearing all of the little details about your day, and sharing all of the insignificant details of my day with you.
I miss hugging you tightly and squeezing your warm hand in mind. I miss the sound of your vibrant laugh, and I miss the way you would smile at me from across the room, a smile only shared by the two of us.
I miss the way you challenged me, and always encouraged me to do my best. I miss the way you reassured me that everything would be okay, even when I felt like the world was falling apart. I even miss all of our silly arguments and disagreements, just because I would do anything to relive them so that I could be with you.
I miss you. It’s as simple and as grand as that. I miss seeing you every single day, and I miss loving you with every fiber of my being. I miss the time we spent together, and I miss the time that I thought I still had with you.
I miss you. And the missing you part never gets any easier. I feel as though I was robbed of a lifetime I thought we still had. I feel as though I was robbed of new memories and new stories. But all I have to hold onto are the memories we already made, the memories that we already formed.
I am very slowly learning how to live without you, and I am very slowly learning how to fit missing you into living.
I’ve learned that missing you doesn’t mean that I cry every day, or that I never smile or laugh. Missing you doesn’t mean that I’ve stopped trying to live, or stopped trying to do my best. But it does mean that sometimes I just don’t feel right. Sometimes I look at the day ahead and I just don’t feel good. Missing you means that sometimes I feel numb, and I don’t know why.
I try to reassure myself, by remembering how lucky I am to have lived our little infinity together, but then I become scared, as I realize that some parts of you are fading from my memory. I realize that it’s up to me to hold on to our time together. It’s up to me to use the time we had together to continue to live a beautiful life for the both of us.
Since you’ve been gone, a little part of me has stayed empty. And this emptiness still leaves me feeling unsettled and incomplete. A little part of me is still not sure how to live on my own in a world without you. And truth be told, I probably will never know how. But I will keep trying. I will keep trying to live in a way that radiates the love you had for me, and the love that I had for you.
So as simple and as vast as it is, I miss you. I miss you every single hour of every single day. And I will continue to miss you, day after day after day. I’m not sure if it will get easier, but I will keep going. I’m not sure if I will ever be okay, but I will try to be.
But I do know one thing, if missing you every single day is the price I pay for loving you, it is well worth it.

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13 thoughts on “Mom, I’m Still Learning How To Live Without You

  1. Cord Cutters Nation

    Hello, I go by the username cfcarter1 and I manage two blogs. One on blogger and one on WordPress. As you can see the title of my blog/site is Cord Cutters Nation which is mainly geared for people wanting to save money by primarily watching television online and cutting the cord.

    I began blogging as a way to find an outlet for dealing with my grief both with the fact of losing my mother and another by losing a soldier while I was deployed overseas. I am a Veteran and I am proud of my service. Although I have been through many changes throughout my life and even throughout my service to my country, I can never seem to shake off the grief and the loneliness of losing a loved one especially a mother. I lost my mother at 13 and life has never been the same. While deployed overseas we lost a Soldier during the Afghanistan war and afterwards, I thought I would never recover mentally.

    I was able to retire from the service but in the back of my mind grief still seems to consume me sometimes, even when being medicated. It seems the medication only numbs the pain. Both my mother and the soldier mentioned above lost their lives to Suicide and I must say it was a very traumatic experience for me.

    I want to say thank you for writing and managing such an important blog as I do not think some people really grasp how deep losing a loved one or someone that you knew for a certain period of time and then suddenly they’re gone forever! I usually ask for strength in most trying times because the burden can become so hard to bare sometimes. It is such a relief to find people out there who are going through similar circumstances and experiences that I go thru from time to time and know that they too hurt like me and they too are human and feel grief just as I do. Please keep up the great work and know that your work is appreciated from the heart!!! Thanks for reading!


  2. Carol Hefner

    Ditto – well said Jenna – the void is impossible to fill when you have such a mother. Mine was absolutely the best and passed away from a tragic drowning two years ago. She was perfectly healthy and had so many more years with me and my family. It is a loss I cannot reconcile and I miss her terribly. I am a better woman, wife, mother, friend, person for having her as my life coach from birth. I knew I was special because of her. Miss her more than words can express. But I strive everyday to implement the lessons and the wisdom she gave me, the love she radiated, I hope to share. Whenever she did something wonderful for me, which was every day, she always said “don’t try to pay me back, pay it forward to your children.” I do that everyday in her honor and her memory. I am good because she was good. Hugs from one grieving daughter to another. I “get” you!


  3. Leslei

    You posted this the day my mom died. It appeared on my feed today, I am certain she had a hand in that. Thank you for putting this overwhelming feeling into words. Well said. I will read it often.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Sandra Kay Seamster

    My mom died January 3, 1985 and it still seems like yesterday. I miss her. I was 33 years old and it tore me apart. She was my rock. I was angry, I was upset, I was hurt because she died. She died of pancreatic cancer and in those days there was no google for the internet, heck, there was no internet. I went down to the city library and grabbed a bunch of medical books to research her cancer and that day I knew that she had a death sentence. I called her doctor and point blank asked him if she indeed had a death sentence and he finally said she did. I called my five sisters and told them that they had to come home for Christmas since this would be her last. The problem was …. the doctors wouldn’t tell her that. We got through our last Christmas and it was a good one. My mom loved Christmas, she loved everything about it. On December 26, 1984, her doctor (he was also her cousin) came to the house and went into her bedroom and sat my dad down on the bed with my mom laying in it. He told them the truth and said she had only a matter of time. On December 31st, my dad called me at work and was in a panic. Something was wrong with mom. I rushed home, called an ambulance and she went to the hospital…..and died three days later. Not a day goes by that I don’t miss her, I feel I was gypped out of time with her. I always tell people that have parents to tell them they love them and to be with them. You don’t know what you have until it’s gone. My dad lived until 2000, never remarried…. he said he couldn’t.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Vivian Lopez

    Thanks everyone for posting, my mother died on August 30, 2017. I was her only child and although I am 48 I am devastated! I miss her so and wish we had more time. I am waiting for the day when my heart doesn’t ache and the tears don’t flow like a rushing stream. Reading your post helps me to heal.


  6. Linda M

    This piece explains how I feel every single day. My mother died 4 yrs ago this month, and although she was well into her 80’s & I well into my 50’s, that love & heart ache can never be duplicated. Thanks for sharing


  7. Pingback: Mom, I’m Still Learning How To Live Without You | Just Jenna Rose | Loss, Grief, Bereavement and Life Transitions Resource Library

  8. Barbara Crichton

    My mom has been gone almost 8yrs & I still think or see something to tell her about each day, then I just look to the sky & tell her, then chuckle or know what she would say! Some days are better than most others not so good. My daddy has been been gone for almost 34yrs (he was only 61 when he left us) & still talk to him also, mainly when mom was ill. Today’s his birthday he would have been 95, happy birthday in heaven daddy. I know they are together again & that helps! Thank you for putting your feelings down on paper, it helps to remember we are not alone with our feelings!


  9. virgilcane25

    Thank you for posting this. While it’s not my mom but my wife of thirty three years every word you wrote still fits. You see she was my caretaker as I have left body Dementia and relied heavily on her for the past three years. Today I’m doing better and having to relie on my children to look after me but I still miss my wife so terribly. Thank you for your words they are very fitting.


  10. Ashley Crews

    Thank you for writing this. This….is also my truth. I don’t believe I could have conveyed it any better. Well done. You literally captured every single thought and feeling that encompasses my being since I lost my amazing mother to breast cancer. I stumbled upon this article and couldn’t finish the second line without shedding tears. Sigh. I am literally going to write this out exactly even though it came from your beautiful brain. ;). This has been sort of a healing moment to re-write this truth out on paper and own it as it stands 100% true for me. So thank you for sharing. Colleen/Jenna. This was apparently an unexpected need for me today. I could quite pinpoint it…IT. THIS. But you mapped it out for me just right. So I will frame your work somewhere and read it anytime I feel like it. It reminds me that I am not alone and others share the same sentiment and we will heal and live and love….still.

    Thank you and God bless you!

    A. Crews


  11. Wanda Barnes

    Like everyone else, I couldn’t have written my feelings any better. My Mom left the six of us March 30, 2015. She had Idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis. I didn’t know such a disease existed until she was diagnosed. Her lungs hardened like stone and eventually no lung capacity, no air exchange. Her world became smaller and smaller, until it consisted of a recliner and a hospital bed. She finally told us she ” just wanted to go be with Jesus.” She is strong a d well again, so I am thankful.B ut I miss her every day. Thx for sharing,. We must have all had perfect mothers.



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