11/27/2025
I’ve been thinking a lot about you lately, Mom, not in a dramatic way, just in that quiet, everyday kind of missing that settles into a person as they get older.
Holidays always bring you a little closer to my heart. I find myself remembering the things you used to say, the little traditions you kept alive, and the way you always made family feel like the safest place in the world.
I wish I could sit with you again and talk about nothing and everything.
All the things I used to rush through… I’d give anything to slow down and hear your voice telling me it’s going to be alright. I didn’t realize how much I leaned on that comfort until it was gone.
Life keeps moving forward, but missing you walks right beside me.
Some days it’s heavy, some days it’s gentle, but it’s always there — a reminder of how deeply I was loved, and how much of you lives on in me. I try to live in a way that would make you proud, even if I stumble more than I’d like.
Thanksgiving makes me grateful for the years we had, the lessons you taught me, and the love you left behind.
You shaped my heart in ways I’m still discovering. And even though I can’t see you, I carry you into every season, every milestone, every moment when I wish I could reach for your hand.
If you can hear me from where you are, I hope you know this: I miss you, Mom… and I still love you with the same steady love you gave me.
Nothing about that has changed — and nothing ever will.
