What are the words
to say a final goodbye 
to the woman who
gave you birth and
made you feel like you belonged
in a family where you always
felt outside of who you were
supposed to be

To the woman who
was your rock
your best friend
the person you could talk to
for hours on end
about everything and nothing

To the woman who
taught you what kindness
and compassion look like
that strength does not have to be
angry and loud
it can be calm and quiet
purposeful, getting things done

To the woman who 
never once pressured you 
to give her grandchildren
and accepted your understanding 
of yourself as aunt not mother
even though being a mother
was a core part of how she saw herself

To the woman who
taught you to knit 
while sitting in the front seat of the car
with you in the back seat
to crochet right-handed
though she crocheted left-handed
to cross-stitch
to bake and cook
and to steal away to find quiet 
and read romance novels

To the woman who
lived out her faith just like
she'd seen her own mother do
quietly serving
welcoming everyone
teaching through her actions
blooming where she was planted
living out a life of love

To the woman who 
unintentionally left you
with voices in your head saying 
you're not doing enough
you're too fat
you're too messy
but whose arms were always
wide open to offer a hug
to make you feel at home
and loved unconditionally

To the woman
you have been grieving for years
as the cruelty of dementia 
stripped away her words
her ability to communicate
her ability to understand 
and everything that made her 
who she was 

What are the words 
to say a final goodbye 
to your mom?

These are the only ones I have

Thank you for being 
all of who you were
for shaping me into who I am
even though there was more
complexity to our relationship 
than I realized before you
no longer had words 
I've always known you wanted
the best for me and to know
I am loved for all of who I am

There are no words to say
a final goodbye 
to someone whose DNA is 
intimately intwined with who I am
far beyond the realms of our biology

I am my mother's daughter
I would not want to be anyone else
I cannot say a final goodbye
I will carry you with me 
wrap myself in an afghan
crocheted with your love
knowing that while you are now
physically gone
you will always remain
you are part of who I am
and I would have it no other way

My mom died this morning. I’m numb. I’m gutted. I’m relieved. I’m grateful. I’m … I don’t even really know. Doesn’t matter how long you’ve known the loss is coming, grief is still hard.

I suppose I could have titled this My Mother’s Daughter to make it a pair with the poem I wrote to remember my dad, but our relationships were really different. One things is consistent, I am very much parts of both of them.