It has been 6 months since my Mom died.
I wanted to share some of my thoughts and reflections as I’m still grieving and still trying to make sense of her death.
My mom died on January 5, 2023 while my parents were vacationing in Iceland. She got a rare combo of Flu A and Strep and it basically just took over her body, causing a severe case of pneumonia, which then led to ARDS (Acute Respiratory Distress Syndrome), which ultimately destroyed her lungs.
My sister and I were able to get to Iceland on New Years Day. We had debated going there for awhile (I was back in TZ, and she was in MN), but after things took a turn for the worse, we knew it was time, and we knew my Dad needed the support (even if he didn’t want to say it!). Nothing can prepare you to see a loved one in that state: a weakened body laying on a hospital bed with tubes coming from every opening, on a breathing tube, and unconscious. I’m a nurse and I’ve seen this picture multiple times, but nothing compares to seeing your loved one like that. Your Mom, especially.. someone you’ve always relied on to be your strength, to hold your hand and always, full of life. Now, she was in such a vulnerable state, and all I could do was hold her hand and whisper pleas to God.
She was on life support for 10 days with no hope for recovery. We had to make the unthinkable decision to stop care and give her over to Jesus. I have no doubt He welcomed her with open arms as we prayed, held her hand and loved on her, until her final breath.
I often wondered though, how does God decide who gets the miracle. Everyday, we’d go to her hospital bed, hoping for a small glimmer of hope.. or even a huge glimmer of hope.. hoping that God heard our cries and endless prayers and decided to change the situation. We know He heard us, but we never got our miracle.
And life as we knew it would never be the same. Things just aren’t the same without your Mom. Everything is bittersweet now. Anything good has a moment of joy, and then a moment of sorrow because she isn’t here to also enjoy it. A few months ago we redid Theo’s bedroom and while I was happy it turned out so cute, I was also so sad thinking about my Mom never seeing it. This has been the case with so many things since her death.
Living here, I often forget that this is my reality. It’s normal to not see her for extended periods of time, so sometimes I forget she’s actually gone, but then I see her picture on my refrigerator or have a memory, and then I remember… and it literally takes my breath away sometimes.. feels like I’m being punched in the gut. Reality sets in. She’s gone.
I’m being told by my counselor (thank God for Zoom!) that I need to grieve.. but sometimes I don’t know what that really means. Some days I wish I could just lay in bed all day and cry. Other days I feel ok, and can talk about it, no problem. I guess it means feeling the feelings as they come and to talk/cry/be angry, etc. as needed. I recently re-connected with a friend (thank God for Marco Polo!) from Denver who also lost her Mom around the same time as me. It has been such a blessing. It’s a safe place to talk about her, what happened, and any feelings related to it all… to someone who just gets it.
Because, the thing is, life moves on. People move on with their lives and, unless you’ve experienced a loss like this, its hard to fully grasp the gravity of it. Of course, anyone can imagine how hard it is, and how devastating it is, but you can’t FULLY understand until you’re in it.
A few months ago I listened to one of Fr. Mike Schmitz’s homilies about love (Listen Here ). He was saying love can be simplified in just a few words: “Here I am”, or simpler yet, “Show Up”. These simple words, in action, can show others how much you love them, especially in times of hardship. The homily was powerful for me because I felt like it put into words what I was unable to verbalize to so many people who came to my mom’s funeral, especially my friends. Just the simple act of showing up to her funeral showed me how much they loved my Mom, my family and me. It was an act of love that I will be forever grateful for!
So, thank you to all of you who have shown up.. for me, for my family, and especially for my Dad. Keep showing up for those around you… even more than you think you should. Don’t just send the “let me know if you need anything” text, because they won’t let you know. Say, “I’m coming over on Friday with dinner”, or “we’re going out for drinks on Saturday- I’ll come at 5”. Show up, because they need you.
I also wanted to share a few things I’ve learned on this journey and ways God has revealed Himself through this time of suffering. Suffering is a mysterious thing, especially in the Christian sense. It deserves a post in itself.. but for now, I’ll share this and hope it may also help someone else on their journey.
It is in these times of suffering where we truly experience and live out what Jesus has asked of us: if we want to be a disciple of His, we MUST carry our cross and follow Him (Matthew 16:24). That means, if we want to truly be a disciple, there WILL be suffering.. there WILL be a cross (or many) that we must carry, and so, it’s not a matter of IF the cross will come, but a matter of how and when it will come, and ultimately, how you will handle it. No one can escape suffering in this world, but we can choose how we will handle it, and whether we will allow God into that suffering or push Him away…
A friend gave me the book, Real Suffering by Dr. Bob Schuchts shortly after my Mom died. In the first part of the book, he quotes a well-known saying “Suffering that is not transformed is transmitted.” Basically, we have a choice in how we handle our suffering: we can embrace it, and allow it to draw us closer to Jesus (because He is always with us in our sufferings), and transform us through it, or we can deny it, run from it, transmit it to others (through our anger, bitterness, etc.), thus creating more misery for ourselves and others. I thought this was such an interesting concept and it made so much sense to me. It’s not easy, thats for sure.. because most of the time, we want nothing to do with suffering, we want to run from it, just want it to go away… however, most of the time, it isn’t going away. We must look at it from a different perspective, and why not one that gives meaning to it, and can, hopefully, draw us closer to Jesus.
Suffering can, quite literally, break your heart. It was the only way I could describe how I felt after her death.. my heart was shattered into a million pieces. Someone gave me this visual that I thought was really beautiful: visualize a broken heart- split open down the middle, thus creating even more space inside. ? Our goal shouldn’t be to just put it back together, and make it whole again, it should be to embrace the brokenness, and to use that extra space for good. See it as an opportunity to add more into it- more love, more compassion, and more empathy, especially for those who have gone through a similar situation. Suffering allows us to feel things and experience things that we probably never experienced before. It gives us a totally new perspective on the sufferings of others, connecting us in a special, spiritual way. Our prayers can now include those who are suffering in ways similar to us, and an opportunity to offer up our own sufferings for them.
I never wanted to learn these lessons.. at least not through the death of my Mom. I would have never picked this cross, nor would I wish it on anyone else. It’s the never ending, heavy cross that will have to be carried for the rest of my life…
Mom, you are missed more than you know. Everyday, at around 3pm, I expect a text from you, asking how Theo is, and how our day is going. I wish I could tell you about everything he’s doing lately and how he often cries, asking for you. I wish I could share the latest book or podcast I was listening to, that I know you’d love (usually a Fr. Mike Schmitz homily!), and we could talk about how crazy the world is getting. I have so many things I still wanted to show you here in Tanzania, so many more adventures to take you on. You and Dad were just getting started with all of your adventures; you had trips planned for this fall. You still had so much life to live. You were just getting started. Your time here was cut short, and it still doesn’t seem fair.
I wanted to share the eulogy from her funeral. My sister and I wrote this together, and by the grace of God, read it together at her funeral Mass. I’d love for everyone to know what an amazing person she was and I think this really sums up her life and what she stood for.
Eulogy, read on Jan. 26, 2023:
For the past 21 days, things have felt different in our lives and for everyone sitting together right now. Losing our mom Terri is a big moment – something that caused a shift and left empty space that is irreplaceable.
But in this moment – we can’t forget about other kinds of moments. The ones that may seem small … but add up to something much bigger.
Our mom lived her life in those little moments – as a wife, mother, grandmother and friend. If you called – she would always answer (minus the landline – the Daniks may be the last family to have an actual home phone that still rings!) Dinner seemed to effortlessly come together each night. And our house was always the gathering place for classmates, friends and family – where all were welcome no matter the hour or day of the week. The name “Mama T” was given to her by our high school friends, and has stood the test of time, and for good reason. She has been a mother to so many of us.
There are also those things she’s done for each one of us – including complete strangers – that no one else may know about. In those times of saying “yes”, she created these small moments that have added up to big things in all of our lives. And, as her daughters, we’ve learned these small moments – and selfless acts – don’t just “happen” – they involved sacrifice and most of all, love, to make it all come together.
It’s the small moments together that will stay with us forever … the special time we had with our Mom while Dad was away for work- always arguing who got to sleep in her bed with her, or who got to sit with her in the front seat. All the Christmases away where she packed up all the gifts and made sure we still had a magical Christmas away from home. She pulled off multiple surprises for various birthdays and other special events, and she never missed a sporting event, marathon race or important moment in our lives. She was our biggest cheerleader and supported us in all we did!
She was an incredible mom, but an even better grandma. She dreamt of the day she would get to hold and rock her grand babies, and boy did she. She spent countless hours rocking all 3 of her grandkids, and enjoyed every minute of it. You were sure to find her – and the babies – fast asleep in the room! They brought out the best in her- she got to be her fun, loving, silly, playful self- enjoying all the moments dancing in the kitchen, playing at the park, singing funny songs, reading endless stories, and giving hundreds of hugs and kisses.
She loved those kids, and it breaks our heart to know her time with them was cut short.
As a wife, we know she is deeply missed by our dad. They were true partners, and had a marriage we all looked up to. It wasn’t always easy, and not perfect, but it was true and full of love – 51 years strong. They never doubted their love for one another – and my dad’s dedication to her to the very end was deeply moving.
As a friend told our Dad recently, we have a big mountain to climb, and a heavy cross to carry. The days, weeks and years to come will be difficult, as we attempt to live life without her. She will be missed at the upcoming family gatherings, book club and women’s group meetings, walks around the neighborhood with friends, and just in our day-to-day lives. We will miss her little mannerisms, her “Oh, Frank”, or “Oh, Barb” expressions, her laugh, her big, often tearful hugs, her inability to use most technological devices, her constant sniffles and Kleenex’s in every pocket, her organizational skills, her cute bald head, and all the things that made her so special, unique and irreplaceable.
It’s obvious the impact our Mom had on so many people. She was an incredible person and that’s why we need to keep her spirit of love, generosity and kindness alive. We propose a “Live Like Terri” motto as we look to the future. Live out those little moments – to leave something much bigger in their wake.
Go on that adventure you’ve been thinking about, learn to ski (even if you’re in your 60’s), read more, be a life long learner and join a new group, volunteer, be generous with your time and money, call up an old friend, or sit with a current friend in a time of need, grow in your faith, send out cards, and sneak cards into someone’s bag for a nice surprise, and above all, prioritize family and other important people in your life and never miss an opportunity to tell someone you love them.
Mom, we speak for all of those gathered here today: we are honored to have known you, and loved you. Thank you for everything you did in our lives and for loving us all so well. We promise to continue to make you proud, and continue to live as you have taught us. We will miss you everyday, but we will live with the hope of seeing you again soon.
Thanks for listening and processing with me.. love you all ??
Mama T: Pray for us!!
xo, Liz
Links to the books mentioned:
Holy Moments by Matthew Kelly (Linked Here)
Real Suffering by Dr. Bob Schuchts (Linked Here)
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