This Thanksgiving feels heavier than previous ones. It’s the first one without my mom, and the ache becomes harder to ignore as the holiday draws closer. Grief is strange that way—it doesn’t always knock me over in one dramatic moment. Instead, it lingers in the quiet spaces of my soul, silently creeping in when I least expect it until its presence is known and threatening to overtake me.
I’m trying to focus on gratitude because that’s what she would want. And truthfully, I have so much to be thankful for. My children are thriving, chasing their passions, and excelling in ways that fill me with pride and joy. I’ve been blessed with new online friendships this year, bonds that have brought light into my life when I needed it most. My sisters and extended family have been a source of constant love and support, a reminder that even in loss, we’re never truly alone. And somehow, in the midst of it all, I’ve been able to continue pursuing my dreams of being a romance author with five books published, over sixty-five author interviews conducted, multiple podcast guest appearances, and hundreds of hours connecting with readers who love my stories—a dream my mom always championed, even when it felt impossible.
But this year has also been marked by challenges, heartbreaks, and losses that seem too many to count. And no loss feels greater than hers. I can’t begrudge her eternal life in Heaven. I know she’s at peace, surrounded by God, Jesus, my dad, and numerous loved ones. Not to mention, she’s free from pain, dementia, and illness, even more of a blessing. But I can’t help but feel the deep sadness of her absence, the gaping hole she left in my life.
It’s only now, without her here, that I truly realize how much of the magic of the holidays came from her. My mom had this way of making everything feel special, as if she could sprinkle joy and warmth into even the simplest traditions. She didn’t just celebrate the holidays; she created them. She was the heart of the holidays with her homemade Christmas decorations, her signature hand-rolled German noodle recipe, and dozens of freshly baked holiday cookies.
Without her, I find myself asking questions I don’t have answers to. How do I recreate that magic for my children when I’m still mending a broken heart? How do I make the day joyful when my thoughts return to her and the seasonal flowers that adore her grave. I know she’d tell me to carry on, make the best of it, and celebrate with the same love and care she poured into every holiday. And I’ll try. I will.
But it’s hard not to miss her voice, her laughter, and the way she loved and supported me through hardships and victories. She was more than a mom. She was my best friend, confidant, and the longest friendship I ever had. I miss her kind and patient demeanor, caring and servant heart, and the warmth of her beautiful smile.
This year, I’ll be setting the table without her. I’ll be carving the turkey, laughing with my kids, and trying to focus on the things I’m grateful for. But her absence will be there, too, like an empty seat at the table. I’ll miss her stories, hugs, and quiet strength that held us together, even when we didn’t realize it.
If there’s one thing my mom taught me, it’s that love doesn’t end, even when someone’s gone. It lives on in the traditions we carry forward, the memories we hold close, and how we care for one another. So, I’ll honor her this Thanksgiving by trying to bring back some of that magic. I’ll cook the hand-rolled German noodles and the dozens of varied Christmas cookies and display the Christmas village with the elf band made of pipe cleaners. Finding small ways to make my children feel the same warmth and joy she gave them.
And when the tears come—and I know they will—I’ll remind myself that grief is just love that doesn’t know where to go. It’s the price we pay for having someone so wonderfully loved in my life.
Mom, if you’re listening, words cannot express how deeply I love and miss you. Thank you for teaching me what unconditional love is. The beauty of our mother and daughter relationship transcends words and time to last an eternity. You provided the ultimate example of what it means to be a mother, and because of you, I strive every day to be as extraordinary to my children as you were to me.
