I’m a daughter who has lived through the slow heartbreak of losing my mum to dementia - a loss that began long before the final goodbye. I loved/ love her deeply, and grieving her has felt like learning how to breathe all over again.
I grew up with a beautiful childhood, shaped by my parents love, the chaos and comfort of my brothers, and the warmth of our family home. I’m blessed with a beautiful, kind-hearted husband who holds space for my grief, even when I couldn’t find words for it.
Through the months of her decline and the hollow stillness after her passing, I kept showing up - to work, to life, to the version of myself people expected. But inside, I was unraveling. I was “functioning” but not feeling. Smiling, but numb. I didn’t know how to grieve, so I didn’t. Not properly.
Now, I’m slowly learning how to carry the loss rather than be crushed by it. I’m finding my way back to myself - not who I was before, but someone softer, deeper, more human. My grief isn’t a wound anymore - it’s a thread that connects me to her, and to who I’m becoming.
2 likes
