Like Mother, Like Daughter


My mom, daughter, me and Grandma ‘Cille


If she were here, she’d have called me on the phone a month ago, asking me about my plans for Mother’s Day.

I’d have said, “I don’t know Mom, I haven’t gotten there yet.”

If she were here, she’d have called back an hour and a half later. If we did come over, she’d say, would pot roast be okay? Kroger had a sale and she has a nice one in the freezer. She’d also make mashed potatoes, and strawberries for the kids of course. And pound cake for dessert.

I’d be chuckling at her enthusiasm over food, and would have replied with, “Okay, Mom, we’ll see. I need to figure out what we’re doing first.”

It’s what she did when she was here.

traditional roast beef dinner

If my mother was anything, she was enthusiastic about life.  Whatever she did, she did full on.  Whatever she loved, she loved with all her heart. And whenever she was faced with pain or sadness, she chose to look to the good.

I miss my mother most every day. I miss her phone calls and our conversations about my kids and the way she got mad at my father for being forgetful. I miss her smile, the light in her eyes and her determination to live a normal life despite being chained to an oxygen tank.

I miss her.

Though my grief has subsided, and my memories are no longer painful, losing my mother fashioned a hole in my heart. It’s the smallest of fissures, but it’s a space too substantial to ever be filled. Oh have I tried: stuffing the heart with food, alcohol or material items. But such tactics fail me.

So what do I do with this hole in my heart?  With time, I have to learned to:

Acknowledge its presence.

Feel my pain.

And most importantly, move on.

So often in life I don’t want to feel. Pain. Anger. Stress. Sadness. Frustration. When these emotions come, I want to drown them.

I eat.

I drink.

I buy shoes.

I pray for God to make it all go away.

As I gain in years, I’m learning; I can’t really escape reality (who knew?).

I might get nice shoes out of the deal, but fabulous feet won’t really curb my pain.

I’ve also learned that heartache and joy are not mutually exclusive.  Instead, the two reside side by side, taking turns with me throughout life.  I can feel sad about my father’s dementia and thankful for my lovely daughters all in the same space and time.  I can be happy over the richness of life and aching for a friend’s challenges all at the same time.

I can feel, I can release and I can move on, thanking God for the many gifts I have in life.

Like mother, like daughter, I guess.  It’s perhaps the most important lesson she ever taught me.  Now, on to plan Sunday’s dinner…




Mom at her beloved lake house.




About thewritertracy

Writer, Mom, Lover of books, travel, family, friends and fun.
This entry was posted in attitude, Faith, Family Life, God, gratitude, humor, inspiration, life lessons, parenting, trials, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

9 Responses to Like Mother, Like Daughter

    • Thanks Joyce. My mother loved her lake house and loved to go there in the fall with all the colorful trees. This is one of my favorite pictures of her because I sense how happy she is in it. 🙂

  1. So much truth… I listened to a sermon at Christmas about joy and pain coexisting…exactly what you just shared. Healing and heartache seem to go hand in hand. Thanks for sharing. Happy Mother’s Day.

    • HI Tammy. Sounds like a great sermon. I find interested that these two opposite feelings co-exist in our lives. I love how you put it, that healing and heartache go hand in hand.

  2. Joyce Welbaum says:

    I still miss my sister! I miss talking on the phone with her, and all the hand written letters she sent me. I have many wonderful memories of our times together. You were lucky to have her – we all were!

    • Hi Aunt Joyce, what is it about talking on the phone? That is what I miss too. Even though we lived close, I guess that we did talk on the phone nearly every day and I really miss that line of connection. Yes, I do focus on the memories and that helps, I have many good ones! Happy Mother’s Day to you!! 🙂

  3. Tracy, Bless your heart..I love the look so much like your Mother…i believe that everyone that knew her…loved her…she was a awesome big cousin….i always thought she was “so neat” when we were growing up…i always loved to go to your Grandma and Grandpas ‘house…all were always made to feel very welcome there….what a fantastic family there are/were!!!! After my daughter, Jennie,m had open heart surgery in 2006….your mother came to see her and also..took homemade soup to her several times[They lived in Indpls., and I live in Cin….I know also what it is like to lose a mother..mine was so precious also…guess we are among the blessed daughters in the world…Happy mother’s Day, Tracy.

  4. Donald Handy says:

    Joyce and I spoke on the phone today and we talked about your Mom. Joyce misses her phone calls and I just miss her. I see she already told you that though. We are both doing OK.

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