A Mother’s Day Inspiration - My Mother, Two Years After My Father’s Passing
Two years ago, my world shifted with the loss of my father. In that quiet aftermath, the weight of grief settled heavily—but through the stillness, a new presence emerged: my mother, not changed beyond recognition, but revealed in a different light. Today, I write not from sorrow, but from admiration—for a woman whose resilience and strength have come into sharp focus in the absence of her lifelong partner.
My mother has always been the backbone of our family—steady, nurturing, thoughtful. But what I’ve come to see in these two years since my father’s passing is something even more profound: a depth of courage and independence that I had never fully appreciated before. I have always known that she was so capable with so many things. Mom gave up a career in broadcasting to take care of her family… and in a time when there were not many women working in TV… she was a pioneer. She led incredibly large volunteer efforts here in Omaha, the size and scope that would compare to a good size business. Mom took care of her parents, primary to their connection to the world as they grew later in life. And she ran a complicated, ever “moving” household with a sense of grace that is hard to describe.
But this new chapter of her life didn’t come easily. I watched her navigate unfamiliar decisions, manage the home on her own, and confront the emotional tides of grief. But instead of retreating, she grew. I’ve seen her rediscover parts of herself that had been quieted over the years. She's more involved in her community, reconnected with old friends, and started creating new routines that are entirely her own. It’s not just strength—it’s reinvention with purpose. Mom has stepped into each day with grace, honoring my dad’s memory without being defined by his absence.
What strikes me most is the quiet dignity with which she carries herself. She doesn't need to declare her strength; it simply shows up—in how she cares for others, in the way she continues family traditions, and in the joy she still finds in everyday moments. She is still the woman who loved and cared for my father with unwavering devotion—but now, she’s also a woman who’s building a life on her own terms.
For me, as her son, this has been both humbling and inspiring. I’m witnessing a version of my mother I hadn’t known before—independent, resilient, and fully present. She’s not just surviving; she’s thriving in a way that would make my dad proud, and that makes me prouder than words can express.
Two years on, I see her not just as the mother who raised me, but as a woman navigating the complexities of life with strength and authenticity. And in doing so, she’s teaching me—once again—what it means to face life with courage and heart.
Mom, you are remarkable. Thank you for showing me a new kind of strength. I admire you more than you’ll ever know.
