When I Become a Memory

August 6, 2026

One time I called my mom a bitch. Not to her face, but I said it aloud. I felt guilty the moment the word came out of my mouth.

I was a teenager. Rebellious.

Once, I told her that I didn’t want to be like her because she worried all the time. My words cut deep, and I immediately regretted saying them.

I thank God that He changed me at the start of my last senior semester. I am so grateful for the healing my mother and I walked through together. From 18 until her last breath, we were more than mother and daughter. We were friends.

The ride-or-die spirit I have, I got from my momma.

I miss her so much, and my heart aches for her. It is surreal that she’s just a memory now.

One time I told her that I wanted to take them back to their native land. To my surprise, my mom wasn’t interested. Instead, she shared what her dream was: to travel across the beautiful United States in an RV or something similar.

One day, I’m going to fulfill her dream.

For her.

For Dad.

For me.

For my family.

The truth is that one day, I will also become a memory.

Honestly, I feel like I fail daily at being the mother my children need and deserve. I go through the motions of making sure their daily needs are met, yet I still feel like I’m lacking. Like they’re lacking.

Maybe that’s why I think so much about legacy.

Not the kind that’s measured by money or accomplishments, but by presence. By love. By the memories my children will carry with them long after I’m gone.

I hope that when they remember me, they remember that they were deeply loved. That even on the days I fell short, I never stopped trying to become the mother they deserved.

Tonight, I also pray for my sisters. Lord, You know their grief in ways that I never could. You know the memories that make them smile and the ones that still bring tears. Thank You for the unique relationship each of us shared with our mom. Comfort them in the quiet moments when they miss her most. Remind them that her love lives on in the way they care for their own families and in the women they have become.

I pray for my brothers and for their wives. Thank You for the ways they loved my mom and allowed themselves to be loved by her. They each shared a different bond with her, and each of them carries a different ache. Continue to heal the places that still hurt, and let the good memories grow louder than the pain. Strengthen our family to love one another well, to extend grace freely, and to honor the legacy Mom left behind.

Lord, thank You for giving us the gift of our mother. Though we miss her deeply, we trust that she is with You. Help us to live in such a way that the love, faith, sacrifice, and perseverance she modeled will continue through us and into the generations that follow.

Amen.