Bridget’s Story

For My Mother, Iris

My mother, Iris, was my everything—my best friend, my confidante, my greatest teacher. She wasn’t perfect, but she was the perfect mother for me.

On January 19, 2019, after a short yet brutal battle with pancreatic cancer, I lost her. The world, as I knew it, was never the same. In a matter of moments, I went from being her daughter to being motherless, and the weight of that reality still lingers in every corner of my life.

She raised me, for much of my childhood, as a single mother—doing the best she could with what she had. And what she had was love, faith, and wisdom, which she poured into me every day. She taught me about the Lord, the beauty of animals, the wonders of the world, and the importance of helping others in need. She gave me a foundation not only to survive but to find joy in life, even when it felt impossible.

I miss the simple, everyday moments—shopping together, going out to eat, and our deep coffee conversations every morning. We could talk about everything and nothing at the same time, and somehow, it always felt like home. We laughed until we cried, creating memories that now feel like echoes of a life I wish I could have back.

I feel angry that she didn’t get the chance to spend more time with her granddaughter. She would have been the most loving, doting grandmother. And I know I will always ask God why—why He took her when He knew she was all I truly had. Without her, I feel alone in a way that words can’t fully express.

Family has always been important to me, but without my mother, I struggle to find my place. She was my family. And without her, nothing feels whole. So, I wait for the day I can join her—to feel her warmth again, to hear her laughter, to be her daughter once more.

But until then, I carry her with me. In the way I see the world, in the love I give to others, and in the memories that will never fade.

I will never forget her. There will never be another her.

She was my mother.

And I was hers.