Remembering My Mother

Remebering My Mother

Tuesday, May 20, 2025

Late Sunday evening, my mother passed away. A wave of emotions swept over me as I sat on my couch in North Carolina, helplessly distant from her—lying alone on the floor of her apartment in Minnesota. I was told the medics were trying to resuscitate her, but deep down, I already knew. I felt it in my spirit.

When my sister Lee called to confirm her passing, we could do nothing but cry together. My husband held me through the heartbreak and helped me find a flight to Minnesota for the next day. In the midst of all this sorrow, I am so thankful to God for allowing me to speak with my mom earlier that day. I meant to press on "Mom" to call my mother in-law to discuss a matter and instead I accidentally pressed "Momma" so we talked for a few minutes. I got to say a prayer for her and my dad. That final connection is something I’ll always cherish.

Last night, I stayed at my sister Lee’s apartment. Today, we took our time before going to visit my parents' home. When we arrived, I greeted my niece Ayziah, who had spent the night with her grandpa. Lee walked into the kitchen and I saw her quietly weeping. The scent of our mother still lingered in the air, wrapping around us like a memory too fresh to bear. We embraced and cried together.

I eventually made my way to my mother’s bedside. My dad had lovingly arranged blankets and pillows in her place—a barrier of comfort in her absence. I sat there, in the silence she once filled, and poured out my heart.

“Kuv Nam, koj tso peb tseg lawm. Koj moog lawm, kuv ncu ncu koj heev os, kuv Nam."

(My mother, you’ve left us. You’re gone, and I miss you so very much.)

I told her how deeply I missed her and thanked her for loving my father so completely all these years. Through every challenge, every hardship, she stood by his side. Her loyalty and commitment were the foundation of our family.

My mother—sweet, kind, loving, funny and compassionate—was the heart of our home. She had eight children and still found room in her heart for each of us. She taught us to love one another, to do what’s right, and to stand together.

Her passing marks the end of a chapter for all of us. Each of her children shared a special bond with her, unique and unrepeatable. And now, here I sit—on her side of the bed, with my laptop—writing this not just for myself, but for her, and for my children.

Grief is a journey we will all walk eventually. Losing a parent carves a permanent mark in time. But I hold tightly to the memories I have of her. I will carry her legacy forward. The torch she passed to me, I will carry with grace and strength, passing it on to the next generation.

Kuv hlub koj os, Nam.

Page updated

Google Sites

Report abuse