Emily Howard, Writer

This morning I ran/walked 1.6 miles. Then I spent some time stretching and listening to a prayer app on my phone. During the last part of the run when I took my earbuds out, I got an inspiration for a song to maybe write in the near future, so I jotted it down right away so I wouldn’t forget.

All this may sound fairly ordinary, but I assure you it is not. You see, today exactly one year ago I lost my mom to cancer. Within a month she had gone into the hospital, been diagnosed, come to our home on hospice care, and passed away. We celebrated her life with friends and family, ate the casseroles, and moved on.

At least I thought I had. I stayed busy. I got a new full-time job. I was in a play. I attended church and all my kids’ activities. I left absolutely no room for processing trauma or grief of any kind.

Then one day about a month ago I realized I was not ok. I was spending days at a time on the couch watching tv and eating, talking to no one. I was not exercising, praying, singing, or laughing. I had fallen into a deep depression without even realizing it. It is so very sneaky.

So I made some changes, which are not important to go into right now, but just know I feel like a new person today. I am resolving to find joy wherever I can because we are not promised tomorrow. We are all going to die someday. I think it is important for us to realize that and sit with those uncomfortable feelings and not shut them out. Because what is on the other side of that realization that death is inevitable is a commitment to life. Yes, we all will die someday. But first, let’s live.

I miss my mom, a lot. But I know she is not suffering any more, and for that I am thankful. I am also thankful that the loss of my precious mom has woken me up. Life is precious because it ends. Let’s make it count.