More Than Goodbye

Goodbye often changes life forever, yet love can endure. In missing and remembering my mama, I am learning to carry grief and gratitude in the same heart.

Nine years ago this month, my sweet mama departed this world with the angels. She left behind a tremendous legacy and a family who loved her deeply. And still, when she was gone, my heart broke. There were moments when even breathing felt difficult.

We had known her passing was imminent. We had time to say our goodbyes, to share final stories, to tell her what she meant to us. She was 90 years old and had lived a long, full life. I was grateful for those years. I was grateful for the time we had been given.

But gratitude did not make the goodbye painless. Knowing she would leave did not teach me how to live without her. How was I supposed to navigate a world that no longer held my mother’s loving presence?

The early days were heavy with grief. My sister and I carried the same loss, but we did not always carry it in the same way. We reached for each other, offering whatever strength we could muster. Sometimes we had enough to share. Sometimes we had none at all. We were two daughters missing our mama, trying to find our footing while the ground beneath us felt unfamiliar.

I’ve learned so much about grief since those first days. For me, it has not gone away. It has changed. And slowly, it has changed the way I carry my love for her.

Today, my precious sister sent me a video clip of a song that had been my lifeline in the early stages of grief. This time, photographs accompanied the music. I watched, and the tears came again—as freely as they had nine years ago.

For a moment, the distance between then and now seemed to disappear. The song brought me back to those tender, broken days. But as I listened, I realized the tears were not quite the same.

They were not only tears for what had been lost. They were tears of remembrance. For the life my mama had lived. For the love she had given us all. For the blessing of having been her daughter.

I still missed her. That had not changed. But alongside the ache was a warmth I could feel more clearly now. The memories did not only remind me that she was gone; they reminded me that she had been here. That we had loved her. That we had been loved by her.

Grief has changed me. It has changed my sister, too. We cannot return to who we were before that goodbye. Yet nine years later, she can send me a song, and we can still reach for each other through the love we share for our mama.

I am learning that navigating grief is not the same as leaving someone behind. I do not have to stop missing my mother to keep living. I do not have to choose between sorrow and gratitude. Both were there when I watched that video. Both belong to the story.

If you are finding your way through grief, I cannot tell you when the heaviness will lift or what shape your remembrance will take. I can only share what these nine years have taught me: a changing grief is not a fading love. A gentler day does not mean you have forgotten. And tears that return do not erase the distance you have traveled.

Nine years ago, I wondered how I would ever navigate a world without my mama’s loving presence. I still do not have one simple answer. But today, I have this: my sister sent me a song. I listened. I cried. And in the midst of missing our mama, I felt grateful to remember her.

The tears were still there. This time, they held more than goodbye.

We’ll See You Again, Mama!