This Isn’t Goodbye, It Can’t Be.

I wanted so badly to find only the most eloquent words to make this post. This is without a doubt the hardest thing I’ve ever had to share personally or publicly. This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to face in life. If you follow me on Twitter or Instagram, then you may already know. It still hurts to say or even type out the words. It is with a heavy heart that I share with all of you that my beautiful, loving, wonderful, amazing mom passed away on September 4th.

My mom and I shared a home the past six years. Her health hasn’t been great, yet her sudden passing still came as such a shock to my system. I don’t think we are ever really prepared for such losses. My mom was not just my mom; she was one of my best friends. We had pretty much always been close. She was an amazing woman. To give you more of a glimpse about my mom, I’ll share a piece of her obituary that I wrote.

“Deb was a woman full of love and life. She had a deep devotion to her children, her sisters, and to God. She loved singing and cooking for family. Her Swedish Meatballs will definitely be missed by many who knew her. Deb was a creative soul with an intelligent mind. She loved to crochet, sew, and was very artistic in many ways. She was the type of crafter who could look at something and create the perfect pattern without having one. Over the years Deb nurtured many children who were not her own with an open heart. If anyone needed a hand, she always did her best to help them out. Despite having been very ill during the last handful of years in life, there was always a lot of love and laughter that surrounded her. She passed away due to health complications, but was very peaceful and surrounded by loved ones at the time.”

Alongside writing out her obituary, I actually wrote the eulogy for her services as well. The two hardest things I have ever had to write in my whole life.

My mom was my biggest encourager with my writing. I am so grateful I got to share some of Collected with her. I’m just so sad and heartbroken she won’t physically be here with me when my book finally is all set and releases. She won’t physically get to read it and tell me her feedback.

There is so much I already miss about her and so much I wish she would be here for, but I am so thankful to God for the mother he gave me. I cherish the time I had with her, even as much as I feel I’ve lost her too soon in life. I’m only in my thirties; she had only just turned 64 back in July. Even so, there are so many memories and funny little things I’d love to share here. I just at the same time still feel the shock, and still find this inability to put all my words together about it.

Needless to say I am kind of taking some offline time. I am going to focus as much as I can on my book (I really want to make her proud), and plus I’m learning to be kinder to myself these days as I’m just trying to take life one day at a time. I was already going to be making a post about some upcoming changes prior to this, but that will now come at a later time. I will try to share those details soon, but for now I just need to have the ability to focus on healing and writing. I’ll definitely try to pop onto my social media accounts here and there, but I don’t want to have to worry about posting schedules with the blog or social accounts. I just (maybe selfishly) need a break from having to worry about such things for a bit.

Thank you all for those who have been hanging in there with me. This year has been horrendous in my personal life to be honest, but I will persevere. Believe (or don’t) what you want, but I know I got God in my corner and that in itself gives me strength to do what I need to.

I’ll end this with the last few lines from the eulogy I wrote for my mom…

“This is not a goodbye. Deb was a true believer. Though we mourn her now in this life, someday we will be reunited in the next. Until then, may this beautiful soul rest in peace as we remember her, and celebrate the time we had with her.”

Jane Ridgewood

6 thoughts on “This Isn’t Goodbye, It Can’t Be.

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