Still Here, Still Mom

Category: Motherhood

Parenting through grief while raising two daughters after the loss of their father. Stories about motherhood, resilience, and helping my girls navigate life after loss.

  • What grief sounds like for me

    What grief sounds like for me

    I didn’t expect this to affect me the way it did.

    I took my words…
    my thoughts…
    my grief…

    and turned it into a song.

    At first, it felt like just another way to express what I’ve been carrying.

    Something creative.
    Something different.

    But then I listened to it.

    And it broke me.

    Hearing my own story…
    in someone else’s voice…

    with music behind it…

    made everything feel real in a different way.

    It’s one thing to feel something.

    It’s another thing to hear it.

    There’s no distraction.

    No way to push it aside.

    Just the truth.

    The words I’ve been thinking…
    but haven’t always been able to say out loud.

    The parts of this journey
    that don’t always make it into conversations.

    The quiet thoughts.
    The heavy moments.
    The things that sit with you when the world goes still.

    That’s what this song captured.

    Not strength.

    Not healing.

    Not “moving on.”

    Just…

    where I am.

    Right now.

    Grieving.

    Trying to show up for my girls.

    Trying to keep going.

    Trying to breathe through the days that feel impossible.

    This is what grief sounds like for me.

    It’s soft…
    but heavy.

    It’s quiet…
    but loud at the same time.

    It’s love…
    and loss…
    and everything in between.

    I don’t know if I’m doing this right.

    But I’m still here.

    Still mom. 🤍

    🎧 Listen to the song:

    👉 https://suno.com/s/9snQ7pRO29FrJLxy

  • Being a mom while grieving

    Being a mom while grieving

    Being a mom while grieving is a different kind of hard.

    Because no matter how broken you feel…

    You still have to show up.

    There are no pauses.

    No time to fall apart completely.

    No space to just stop.

    Because little eyes are watching you.

    Little hearts are feeling it too.

    They are grieving in their own way.

    Even if they don’t always show it.

    Even if it comes out as tears…
    or anger…
    or silence…

    And somehow, you are expected to hold them through it…

    while you are falling apart yourself.

    That is the part no one prepares you for.

    Grief doesn’t take away your responsibilities.

    It doesn’t pause motherhood.

    It doesn’t give you time to process before life continues.

    The school runs still happen.

    The homework still needs to be done.

    The lunches still need to be packed.

    The routines still carry on.

    And so do you.

    Even when you don’t feel like you can.

    Some days, I feel like I am doing the bare minimum.

    Just getting them to school.

    Just making sure they are fed.

    Just getting through the day.

    And then the guilt comes in.

    The guilt of not being the mom I want to be right now.

    The guilt of not having the patience I used to have.

    The guilt of being physically there… but emotionally somewhere else.

    I try to remind myself…

    This is not a normal season.

    And maybe right now…

    being a “good mom” doesn’t look like what it used to.

    Maybe it looks like:

    Holding them when they cry.

    Sitting with them in the hard moments.

    Letting them feel what they need to feel.

    Maybe it looks like honesty.

    Because the truth is…

    I don’t have it all together.

    I am learning as I go.

    Trying to navigate something I never imagined I would have to.

    And still…

    I love them.

    Fiercely.

    Completely.

    Even on the days when I feel like I am failing.

    That hasn’t changed.

    If anything…

    it has become even stronger.

    Even when it feels impossible.

    Even when I feel like I have nothing left to give.

    I still show up.

    And maybe that is enough for now.

    Maybe right now…

    that is what strength looks like.

    Please hear this:

    You are doing better than you think.

    You don’t have to do this perfectly.

    You just have to keep going.

    One day at a time.