Life Without Mother

Dear Mom,

I’m going back to visit the rest of the family this weekend and to be brutally honest, I’m not quite sure I really want to go. I don’t want to leave my new home here at college. And while it will be fun to see Hope, Mary Faith, Dad and Grannette, there is still the reluctance to go back. Especially so close after I moved in (it’s only been three weeks). I’ve just barely got my feet under me and now I have to deal with visiting everyone for a weekend that will have added hectic-ness with the whole future-family-coming-into-town thing as well. Technically that’s the reason I’m going back in the first place: to see everyone since eventually it will become a norm for our family.
Gosh, I just don’t know what to make of my feelings—they’re so all-over-the-place. I’m mixed between loving this new independence and not wanting to connect with everyone back in Frisco but is that really the independence talking or is it because I just want to ignore that I can’t talk to the one person I would’ve been calling every week, if not every couple of days: you. I’m also mixed between love for Dad’s new lady-friend, and wanting it to be just us for a while without the distraction. But see, she makes him so happy and it’s selfish—especially for me since I’m out of the house—to want him to be alone just because she’s not you. She’s the best person we could add to our family (along with the others of her family) because she knew you and already knows us and wants to be involved in our lives without trying to replace you, helping us through our own grieving (particularly there for Dad) with true understanding rather than mere sympathy.
She even asked to be a prayer warrior for me, to which of course I gave my assent. Then, the day before my college move-in day—when I was really struggling with my selfishness in wanting everyone to be completely focused on me while Dad and the girls shared his new relationship status with Grandpa, Grandma, etc.—she texts me as I’m in the middle of a cry-fest over the phone with my best friend that God put me on her heart to pray for me. Like, how can I not be super psyched about this amazing woman joining our family?
And I am. But I’m also not. Because I don’t want to let you go, Mom. I don’t want our family to change. But it has. And I’ve grown up. More than I thought I’d have to this year. I’ve grown up and moved out and I just want to move on but I don’t want to leave you behind.
I’ve realized: every day that I live from now on takes me one more day further from the last time I spoke to you, the last time I hugged your neck, the last time you caressed my face, the last time you helped me make sense of things by talking them out, the last time you said you were proud of me, the last time I said, “I love you.”
And I think that’s the hard part in thinking about Dad “moving on” because while I know he’ll still miss you a lot (how could he not after the almost 32 years he spent with you?), he has to keep living the life God has for him and apparently that includes someone else. And meanwhile, I’m still stuck missing you terribly.

Your daughter,
Hannah