Life Without Mother

Dear Mom,

It’s been ages since I’ve shared the more simple moments of my day. As of late, it’s been these great revelations or moments of processing the deeper feelings. Today, though, I just want to share my day. My day without you.

I went to see my counselor this morning. We talked about dating… again. This was only the second time, but it also involved my deeper struggle with loneliness/abandonment that I’ve been processing lately. Basically, it came down to three steps: acknowledge the feelings, confront them with His Truth, and stand firm in that Truth. And to be quite honest, I’m not greatly looking forward to it. I’m much better at numbing and then just complaining that nothing seems to be getting better. Even as we spoke I recognized moments of numbing just in the past two days were I cognitively chose to not address the depression and loneliness and instead just watch a TV show and bake cookies. (Side note: I accidentally made peppermint snickerdoodles. Not sure how I feel about them yet. Kinda okay, but have a slightly off aftertaste…) BUT, I really do want to be better. It’s going to be work, but God has already in His grace granted me victory over sin and death.

This afternoon I had the opportunity to be in charge of music for a wedding in our church. This included the pre-playlist, playing guitar during the ceremony, and ending with a special song chosen by the groom. It reminded me of when Joel and Katie had me play piano at their wedding. And when you made me wear that horrendous bow as a seventh grader. I was twelve, mother. Why? Why did you make me do that? It’s okay, I forgive you.

Anyway, it was a beautiful wedding — thrown together in a week with a very limited budget. It was remarkable how far borrowed fake flowers, fancy shower curtains, plastic runners, tulle, string lights, and candles went. If you were still here, I think we would’ve once again brainstormed my wedding. (Not that I have a groom, mind you, but still.) One of my favorite memories is when we went to Hawaiian Falls when I was in high school (and more into tanning), and you and I just were lying out in the shallow end of the wave pool, brainstorming my future wedding. I remember you wore your black swimsuit and I wore mine that was black with multi-shaded turquoise dots on it. I remember because I used it to show you the color palette I wanted. This subtle mix of turquoise and cyan. With white. And I wanted it to be in January because I love the winter and basically just want a winter wedding.

Anyway, then I had coffee with my first friend here in New York (outside of my ministry, of course). And now I’m (predictably) sitting in a coffee shop writing a letter to you. If you were here, I’d likely be here simply working on a novel and would call you later. But since you aren’t, I wanted to take a moment to say that I miss you. I wish we could talk. But, I’m okay, Mom. Or — at least — I’m learning to be. I love you like you never left.

Your daughter,
Hannah