We were heading home from Buddy’s gymnastics class when I rounded the corner of our apartment parking lot and unexpectedly saw my mom. I started to cry.
My mom was on her way to Houston for a “Hail Mary” surgery we hoped would save my grandmother. I knew it was over when I saw my mom waiting for me. She hadn’t gone to Houston. Mamaw was gone.
Mamaw always referred to her death as “when the time comes.” That day always seemed a lifetime away. But today, I look back and see that it’s been one year since “the time came.”
I can still hear Mamaw’s voice and feel her hugs even though it’s been so long since her frail arms hugged me back. I miss her terribly, but today, I am thankful for the life she lived and the relationship we had. I am grateful that thinking of Mamaw makes me smile more than missing her makes me cry.
Her stage 4 cancer diagnosis was a catalyst for me. It was a swift kick in the rear that spurred me to enroll in my Health Coach Training Program so I could help keep the people I love healthy and happy. Though bittersweet, I feel like life and events are coming full circle. Trauma and pain are making room for healing and potential. Loss and despair are turning towards hope and possibility.
Life changes in the blink of an eye, but time and perseverance can help things get better too. Even when life is hard, I know it can always become beautiful again. I see that all things can work for good if we let them.
Thank you, Mamaw, for your love, the memories, the laughs, and the quilts. Even when you didn’t know it, I was watching you and learning from you. So much of who you were was a gift to me. Thank you for inspiring me, even now, to do what matters.
