A Motherless Daughter...

Mom died very early Sunday morning. We all knew it was coming, but that doesn't change how heartbreaking it is. Even now, two days later, I know she is gone, but there's a part of me that thinks I'm going up to see her this weekend and have a laugh or two...

Last December I bought a book after a sister in my ward recommended it to me called "Motherless Daughters: A Legacy of Loss" by Hope Edelman. I had thought I would read it to prepare myself for her death but I kept putting it off, and putting it off. I pulled it off the shelf today and devoured it in a couple of hours. I'm glad I waited. I have been handed a great deal of understanding.

While the gospel provides a comfort and peace regarding all the eternal and spiritual matters, there's still that gaping void I know I will spend the rest of my life trying to adjust to. It's something I've thought about over the last several years, of what I would be missing down the road, but I could never put into words what it was that I would really be needing. Hope said it beautifully:

"Regardless of our age, we yearn for a mother's love throughout our lives, reaching for the security and comfort we believe only she can provide at times of illness, transition, or stress."

"Our mothers are our most direct connection to our history and our gender. Regardless of how well we think they did their job, the void their absence creates in our lives is never completely filled again."

Here, though, is the one thing that hit home for me the most:

" In the redwood ecosystem, buds for futures trees are contained in pods called burls, tough brown knobs that cling to the bark of the mother tree. When the mother tree is logged, blown over, or destroyed by fire- when, in other words, she dies -the trauma stimulates the burls' growth hormones. The seeds release, and trees sprout around her, creating the circle of daughters. The daughter trees grow by absorbing the sunlight their mother cedes them when she dies. They receive the moisture and nutrients they need from their mother's root system, which remains intact underground even after her leaves die. Although the daughters exist independently of their mother above ground, they continue to draw sustenance from her underneath."


My Mom was a wonderful teacher. Someone who has taught me my most important life lessons. She taught by making me self sufficient. She taught by being the best example she knew how to be. I've always known that when she passed, I would still have that foundation to draw from.

But the fact remains, I will still miss my mother....