The Goodbye I Never Got

Grief has a way of making you point fingers — at life, at people, at timing, even at yourself.

When my mom passed, I was angry. Angry at my family. Angry that we never got the chance for closure. I blamed everyone for the goodbye that never happened — because it was easier than facing the pain of what really hurt.

I never said everything I needed to say.

For a long time, I told myself it wasn’t my fault — that life just happened too fast. But deep down, I knew part of my silence was mine. I held grudges against my mother. I was afraid to be vulnerable with her. Afraid to speak up about my feelings, my hurt, my truth. And now, I’d give anything for just one more conversation — even if it was messy, even if it ended in tears — because at least it would have been real.

That realization broke me for a while.

But it also became a mirror. Grief forced me to look at myself — not to shame me, but to show me where love got tangled up in fear. It taught me that forgiveness isn’t just for the person who’s gone — it’s also for yourself. I’ve had to learn to forgive myself for being human. For being hurt. For not knowing how to love perfectly.

Now, when I start to s

ink into guilt, I push myself to remember the good days — the times we laughed, the conversations that were full of light. Because there were good moments. There was love.

I still have her voicemails saved on my phone. Sometimes I play them just to hear her voice — that sound that instantly brings tears to my eyes.

I still scroll through her messages and reread them when I miss her the most.

It hurts, but it also heals. It reminds me that she’s still with me — not in body, but in memory, in spirit, in every lesson I carry. I know this is something I’ll struggle with for the rest of my life. That’s the thing about grief — it doesn’t vanish; it grows with you.

It teaches you new lessons at every stage of healing.

And even though I’ll never stop missing her, I’ve learned to let that longing live beside love — not in place of it.

Grief taught me that even without closure, love still finds a way to speak.

And as long as I keep listening — to her messages, to my memories, to the parts of me she shaped — she’ll never really be gone.

I love you mommy, I miss you.

With Love,

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