It’s late at night; well, technically, it’s 9:39 p.m., but in the quiet darkness of my room, with my children fast asleep for the last 45 minutes, it feels like 3 a.m. on Toddler Mom Standard Time (TMST). Instead of enjoying the precious sleep that is a rare luxury for a mother of a toddler and a newborn, I’m sifting through old photographs, searching for every image of my four-year-old with her beloved Grandmama. We lost my mother this past January, and it’s an understatement to say that this has been a devastating blow to our family.
Our youngest son was born last November, and while we were in the hospital, my parents took care of our older daughter, who was then a lively three-year-old, without any issues. Everything felt normal. Thanksgiving came and went, with our main concern being whose house would smell of turkey for days. We visited my parents for Christmas, and though my mom seemed different, she dismissed it, attributing her weight loss to a temporary health issue. By mid-January, she was hospitalized, and a week later, she was gone.
Grief is universally painful, but losing a parent while trying to navigate motherhood is an excruciating experience. The past three months and three days have been a journey of discovering how profoundly challenging it is to cope with the loss of a mother when you’re also a mother yourself. My daughter adored her Grandmama, spending countless days with her, especially during the challenging last months of my pregnancy.
When a mother dies, the grieving daughter doesn’t have the luxury of focusing solely on her own sorrow. Instead, she must bear the heartbreaking task of explaining this loss to her children, whose emotional fragility surpasses her own. The process of breaking the news is just the beginning. As we collectively embark on our grieving journey, I find myself still needing to be the emotional anchor for my family, all while grappling with my own grief.
Children react to loss in ways that can be difficult to manage, and I must find the strength to be patient and understanding, despite wanting to collapse in tears. The hardest part is realizing that my instinct is still to reach out to my mom for advice whenever my kids misbehave. Three months later, that reflex remains strong.
Coping silently, I draw from whatever inner strength I can muster, attempting to balance keeping my kids engaged with my best fake smiles while guiding them through their grief with stories and memories of their grandmother. Toddler parents face the additional challenge of having to explain this devastating news repeatedly, breaking it down into simple terms and answering painful questions that only young children can ask.
Over time, the hope is that healing will come, but it’s not a straightforward path. As my children grow, I experience a new layer of heartache: every milestone they reach is a reminder of the moments my mother will never witness. I fight the urge to share cute photos of my children with her, knowing she would have cherished each one.
Living with the constant whisper of loss becomes a part of my daily life. While others seem to move on, my grief deepens, becoming an integral part of me. The realization of how much I relied on my mother for everyday assistance hits hard. I never recognized her as my personal Google, but she was always there for recipes, advice, or simply to babysit while my husband and I enjoyed a rare date night. Now, with two little ones, I hesitate to ask my recently widowed father for help, leaving us to navigate this chaotic phase on our own.
If the emotional toll, the struggle to convey the news to my kids, and the challenge of parenting through grief weren’t enough, it is the stark realization that my children, especially the younger ones, may not even remember the grandmother who played such a significant role in their lives that weighs heavily on my heart.
So here I am, resisting the urge to sleep, sorting through family photos to create a “Grandmama and Me” album for my daughter. At only four years old, her chances of remembering her grandmother are slim. However, the more I can remind her of their time together, the better the chance she’ll retain those memories into adulthood.
As I sift through these photos, I’m struck by a jarring realization: despite my daughter spending significant time with my mother, there are few pictures of them together. Most photos feature my daughter with gifts from her Grandmama or moments captured by my mother as she played the role of the unseen family glue. It became clear that the majority of our treasured family memories show my mom behind the camera, not in front of it.
This invisible labor of love is often unnoticed, and there are days when I long for acknowledgment of all the small tasks I perform—like unloading the dishwasher yet again. But as I reflect on the photos and my mother’s role in our family, I realize that her quiet strength and dedication served as the highest form of praise. If I can emulate her ability to hold our family together—often without recognition—I’ll know I’ve succeeded as a mother. After these past few months, I recognize how much my children will value this too.
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Summary
Losing a mother while being a mother presents unique challenges, as one must navigate personal grief while supporting their children through the loss. The emotional weight of explaining this loss repeatedly, coping with the absence of a maternal figure, and the realization that children may not remember their grandmother adds to the heartache. The experience of being the family’s emotional anchor and the unseen glue is a heavy burden, yet it serves as a testament to the enduring impact of motherhood.