My mother was 31 years old when she had me. I wasn't exactly a planned addition to the family. 😂
That meant I always had an older mom than most of my friends. I also had nieces and nephews before most of them did because my brothers and sisters were so much older than me. In fact, one of my friends' moms was having a baby at the same time my mother was becoming a grandmother. My family has always been a little backwards like that.
I remember worrying about it even as a little girl. I knew my mom was older than everyone else's, and I was afraid I'd have to live without her long before my friends ever had to say goodbye to theirs. It was one of those quiet fears that stayed tucked away in the back of my mind while I was growing up.
But my sweet momma fooled us all.
She lived to be 92 years old and gave me 61 wonderful years with her. Looking back now, I realize what an incredible gift that was. So many people never get that much time with their mothers.
When I think about everything life has thrown at me over the years, I honestly don't know how I would have made it through so many of my trials without her. She was my safe place, my sounding board, the one who could calm me down, make me laugh when I needed it most, and somehow always knew exactly what to say.
The little girl in me was right about one thing—losing my mom would be one of the hardest things I'd ever face.
She just got the timing wrong.
And for that, I will be forever grateful.
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