There are few things in life I have feared more than losing my mother. Since I was a toddler, sitting beside her watching cartoons while she slept after working the night shift at the nursing home, I have dreaded the day she would leave this world—my world.

She was my constant, my touchstone. I have started every day since I left her house with a message or a call to her. Throughout the day I’d send her my musings, my fears, a picture of something cute we both knew I didn’t need but would buy anyway. Any drive longer than five minutes meant a call to her. Any unusual symptom or funny interaction at the grocery store required her thoughts.

She was so funny. She was so smart—it would often surprise you, because most of the time she’d rather be whimsical than right. She could do ten things at once better than most people can do one.

I could talk for hours about her compassion for others, the things she did simply because they were the right thing to do. But she always, always said that if you do something nice, you don’t need to tell anyone. It should be for you. The kindness she spread cannot be contained by words anyway.

Above all else, I will miss her. Every milestone for my son, every holiday, every morning and afternoon—everything beautiful and bright—will make me think of her. She left little sparkles everywhere, and I’m so lucky to get to look for them and remember her.

For anyone else so new on their journey I’m so so sorry for your loss. For those further along, please share anything that’s helped you. 

I built my day around my mom and now she’s gone.