Mom, I’ve Never Missed You More Than I Do Now

Inside: My mom died seven years ago. But this week before Mother’s Day, here are some thoughts I wish I could share with her today. ~

Dear Mom,

While it seems strange to write you a letter, this feels like the best way to express some thoughts I’ve been having lately.

You went home to heaven seven years ago, so I can’t share what I’m thinking with you. But I can share it with reader friends who have lost their mothers too, those who may be thinking about the day when their moms or mothers-in-law are no longer here, and those for whom Mother’s Day brings up myriad thoughts and emotions for all sorts of other reasons.

So Here We Go

I’ve missed you terribly these last several months. Not just in the aftermath of my accident last year, although I did miss you then. I wished you could have been here to express your concern when I was in the hospital, and then during many months of recovery. And yet, as a mother who has daughters myself, I’m glad you didn’t have to experience the worry and fear that certainly would have accompanied those days for you.

I missed you even more during Lilly’s engagement, at her wedding in March, and now as she and her husband embark on their journey together. Watching from a far as they set up house, plan meals and figure out how to mesh their lives has brought back fond memories of that process in my own life. But it has also made me wonder how it was for you, as my mom.

All seven of your children left the nest, and six of us got married. I wish I knew how each of those transitions felt for you, but I never once thought to ask.

What Did You Think?

Did you wonder how God was going to direct our steps and what kind of families we might have one day? Did you miss your own mother when you launched yet another child, either into marriage or independence as a young adult?

I’m guessing so, but I don’t know. And I’m sorry I didn’t ask.

I saw a Mother’s Day card at Aldi last week that said “Home is where Mom is.” I’ve seen this phrase before, but it struck a deeper chord in my heart this time.

I have a home in Kansas where I’ve lived with my family for 14 years. It’s the longest I’ve lived anywhere as an adult, but it’s not my forever home.

That would be heaven. Where you are, as the card says.

The other day on the phone, I told Lilly that she might not have a bedroom at our house anymore, but this is still her home too. Not her only home, of course. But “home” as in, where her mom is.

It All Ties Together

As I ponder these thoughts of home, I see that missing you is tied up in this season of transition. You’re not here, my daughter is getting started on her new life, and I’m wondering what to make of it all.

I probably wouldn’t have written a letter like this to you when you were alive. I’m not sure I would have even expressed these thoughts to you verbally back then.

The way I’m feeling is informed by the last seven years: how I’ve come to appreciate the kind of mother that you were, and how well you actually did understand me, even though I often thought you didn’t.

So what am I supposed to do with all of this? For starters, I need to keep believing that God sees me, in every season, and goes before me, every step of the way. Just like He did for you, all the days of your life.

I also need to remember that He is doing the same for my daughters—your granddaughters. And to follow your example to pray for them, faithfully and as specifically as possible, always trusting that God will direct their steps too.

I’m So Grateful

Thank you for doing that for so many years, Mom. It’s hard to articulate how grateful I am for all those prayers you and Dad offered up at the kitchen table—for me my whole life, for Randy once we got married, and for the girls even before we knew who they were.

I miss those prayers, but I also believe they are still active. Our wise, sovereign God will answer them all—in His way and on His timetable. And if I’ve learned anything at all since you died it’s this: His timing is usually not mine, but it is perfect and full of purpose.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. I love you and miss you.

Your daughter

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Friend, I don’t know where you find yourself this week. But if you have thoughts about home or Mother’s Day that you’d like to share—any thoughts at all—please drop them in the comment section.

♥ Lois

P.S. I’m linking up this week with InstaEncouragements, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.