My sweet, sarcastic, and sassy mama died at age 62, just a few months before I found out I was pregnant with my daughter.

I grew up with the greatest gift a young person can receive – unconditional love from a parent.  My mom didn’t spoil us with things, (I remember very clearly that going to McDonald’s for chicken nuggets was a major treat and not to be taken for granted!) but she did spoil us with her love!

I try to give my daughter that same unconditional love so she can feel a bit of the grandma she never got to meet (and who would have loved her so much!).

One of the (many) things mom liked to save (she was a bit of a pack rat!) was the envelopes from mail she’d get.  She’d then use those envelopes as scrap paper to take notes on.  Once I moved out of the house, we talked regularly on the phone.  After she died, I found so many envelopes with notes she had taken about our conversations.  My mom knew all my friends and remembered every detail I’d share about them.  She tracked my life and what was happening and never seemed bored or tired of hearing all about my wins and my challenges. 

She was this way until the end.  Her devoted church community drove her to and from dialysis for many, many months.  Many of those volunteer drivers commented to me that no matter how much pain she was in or how tired she was, she always seemed genuinely interested in them and their lives.

I really miss being able to call her when I’m celebrating and when I’m discouraged. This summer when I had COVID, I longed for her caring (and her soup!).  I was so grateful during the time I was sick for my community who showed up for me – and this also reminded me of something I learned from my mom.

I saw my mom cultivate and treasure her friendships, especially with other women. She taught me that your community is your lifeline.  We belong to each other.

Mom loved life, even as she suffered through bouts of depression.  She had many joys – gin & tonics, ice cream, bowling, kayaking, mountain lakes, flowers, sunsets, playing with the church bell choir, but most of all laughing with her friends and family.

At her funeral, we brought piles of those envelopes she had saved, and invited people to share a memory of mom on them.  They are now some of my most prized possessions.  I laughed so hard reading stories of mom being ridiculous (and sometimes a bit inappropriate!) at work, at church, anywhere! I’m so grateful for everything she taught me about motherhood, friendship, justice, and spirit.

During the early years of parenting my daughter, I desperately missed my mom (still do!). Parenting is so hard, and I was working and grieving and angry at friends who had loving moms swooping in to help them get through the tough infant/toddler years. 

So, with a friend who had also lost her mom, I gathered a group of “motherless moms” into a book group to read Hope Edelman’s Motherless Mothers. Our group kept meeting for 7 years, supporting each other and gathering to cry and yell and just be with other women who understood.  I now offer these groups for other women who are looking to feel less alone in the trenches of mothering and grieving.  You can learn more here:  https://www.susannagilbertson.com/mmgroup or at @motherlessmomsgriefcoach