I’m feeling 23… 23 years of heaviness and 23 years of weight on me and my family.

23 years ago today, we lost my mom. She left suddenly and left a life sized hole in her wake, one that we’ve never been able – nor that we’ve ever tried to fill. There’s no way to do so – mothers are critical components to their children’s lives and their shoes simply cannot be filled by anyone else.

Some days, the Mom sized hole is manageable. It has been 23 years, after all. If nothing else, we have learned how to cope. And we have found other ways to live life that do not involve our parents. They’re certainly not ideal, but they do work and they get us through the day and years.

Other days, I feel like I’m lost. I feel like I have no direction and like I’m treading water through life. I don’t know how to get advice, I don’t know how to make decisions, I don’t know how to be a mom myself, or a wife, or even just a functioning adult. In many ways, I’ve had to teach myself most of this. I don’t know how parents – specifically same-sex parents – do this with their children so honestly I’m not even completely sure of what I’ve been deprived. Maybe no one really gets the kind of “guidance” I feel that I’m missing. Or maybe there are parenting and adulting lessons that I skipped. I guess I’ll never really know.

I do know that I miss my mom. She broke my heart when she left me and I’ve never really recovered. I miss her for myself, for my sister, for my husband and brother in law, for my kids, for our family, for everyone who knew and who missed out on knowing her.

I’ll keep managing, like I always have. I’ll keep telling my boys about Nanny Pammy, like I have for the past five and a half years. I’ll keep on keeping my head up because – what choice do I have? But I’ll always keep missing her and keep trying to heal my 23 year old broken heart.