Two weeks ago, my world shifted in a way I wasn’t entirely prepared for—my mom passed away. Her passing wasn’t unexpected, but it came sooner than I had anticipated. Even when you know it’s coming, there’s no way to fully prepare for the loss of someone so central to your life. Since then, life has felt like a whirlwind, each day filled with the tangible and emotional weight of saying goodbye to her home, her belongings, and the physical space that held so many memories. It’s a process that’s deeply personal yet strangely communal, as family and friends step in to help carry the load.
For days on end, I found myself immersed in sorting through her belongings, carefully deciding which special items would go to specific family members. There’s a bittersweet comfort in knowing these treasures will be cherished by those she loved. My daughter and husband joined me for three days of cleaning, organizing, and packing—their presence was a balm to my heart as we tackled the enormity of the task together. Yet, when they left, I found myself facing a different kind of weight—the need to carve out time for myself amidst the chaos.
After realizing I hadn’t allowed myself any downtime to grieve, I cut one of my days at her house short. It became clear that this wasn’t just about the work; it was about finding space to process, to rest, and to let the loss sink in. Grief doesn’t adhere to a schedule, and neither should the process of dealing with its aftermath.
In the days that followed, I’ve had moments of light and grace, often brought by the people around me. Two friends from church came by to help organize my mom’s extensive library, sorting and stacking books to make it easier for others to view and purchase. Before that, my daughter had thoughtfully taken certain books to a local bookstore. With each task, I’m reminded of the love and support surrounding me, even when the to-do list feels endless.
Amidst arranging furniture and preparing the house for sale, I’ve learned an important lesson: slowing down is okay. Originally, I thought I could complete everything in just two weeks. Now, I’ve come to terms with the fact that there’s no rush. This is not just about packing up a house—it’s about honoring a life, and that requires time and care, not just for the house, but for myself.
Today was a turning point. I took the entire day off. I treated myself to some shopping therapy at Loft, indulging in the simple joy of finding pieces that made me smile. I shared some moments on Instagram, capturing the day’s brightness in posts and reels. I also worked on a few YouTube videos—a creative outlet that has always brought me peace. Then, I tackled a pile of clothes that had been neglected over the past couple of weeks, finding a small victory in getting organized.
The day ended on a beautiful note with an evening walk alongside Rob and our dog, Lucy. The crisp air, the rhythmic crunch of leaves underfoot, and the steady companionship of my little family reminded me of the importance of balance. Even in the hardest seasons, moments of joy and relaxation are essential.
Grief is a journey, not a destination. Some days will be heavy, and others will bring unexpected lightness. For now, I’m learning to embrace both, giving myself grace to move at my own pace. And in doing so, I’m honoring not just my mom’s memory, but also myself.
Be happy, healthy and safe!
so glad you took time for yourself
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