I’m Missing My Mom

My mother was a fox.

By Rori Raye

At 90, when she passed away, she still looked like a foxy angel.

In this picture, we were all on an ocean cruise to Hawaii when I was 13. Here we are coming into the dining room (this is when we all dressed for dinner!).

My dad could never take his eyes off her, and up to the end of his life two years ago, at 99 1/2, he was still talking about how hot and “wild” she was – with a near smirk on his face.

In this picture, it almost looks as if he’s whistling at her.

Though I miss her every day, and every single night I remember to call her and then remember she’s not there to call – I also feel like she’s always here. She’s actually nearer than she was, since she’s everywhere at once.

The real prince of my mother’s life, however, in the last 10 years of her life, is my brother.

A true zen guru in the clothing of what seems to be a hermit-like man, but really is the clothing of a man who judges no one, has his priorities as straight as they can be, and lives only love.

You may have wondered where I’ve been the last few weeks, and though I was much with my mother and brother, I was mostly with myself.

In a few hours, everything in my life changed. My brother was so close to my mom, with her every day for so many years, watching her, taking her to the hospital while I merely showed up there, finding her a new board-and-care place she could call home that only saw her for one night, he says he’s hardly noticed the transition.

He’s felt it and seen it for a long time.

I think that’s because it takes a long time for loss to creep into our hearts after the first shock of it stuns us.

If you’ve ever lost anyone in any way, my heart goes out to you, and I would be honored to know how it felt for you then, and how it feels for you now.

I believe that there is no end to anything, only change and evolution. That I don’t know what that evolution looks like, for my mom, or for me, or for you, seems unimportant.

I don’t know where any of us are going, yet I do know that it’s possible to enjoy every moment of the ride through….

I know my mother did.

Love, Rori

In her books, CDs, DVDs and seminars, relationship coach Rori Raye teaches women the completely original, simple-to-do and stunningly effective techniques for communication, confidence, and connecting with men that she used to turn her own, now-glorious two-decades-long marriage around. If you’re a mom, please get her book written with you in mind – “Siren Mom.” “I’m a trained relationship coach, a former crisis counselor, and through my eBook, programs and newsletter, I’ve helped thousands of women succeed in love by teaching them the Tools I’ve created and developed with my clients – Tools that work quickly and effortlessly to change a struggling love life into Happy Ever After.”

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  1. Rena on May 31, 2022 at 8:28 pm

    My Mom passed at age 99 1/2, just wore out. Was never in hospital for anything serious, no surgeries other than cataracts. Amazing woman took care of herself until the last two weeks of her life. She made her home with me the last 21 years of her life, after my Father passed.
    That time flew by, she loved her gardening, reading romance/adventure novels and late night TV. We got along seamlessly, never any serious issues as she never gave an opinion unless asked. Fair and friendly to my friends and her remaining family members, supportive and loving, always a lady.
    A day does not go by that I don’t miss her presence, her little “ways” that were endearing and it still doesn’t seem real to me that she is gone. We were close and I don’t feel cheated that I didn’t say and do those things that made life happy for us both. I just miss those times profoundly. Strange as it sounds, I can feel her presence which makes me realize how much I miss her and some of the thoughts that go through my mind at that time actually make me laugh and feel light-hearted. As of this writing Mom is gone seven months. The love will always be there!