The Day I Lost My Daughter-And What I'm Doing to Find Myself
I didn’t lose my daughter in a way that makes headlines. There was no accident, no final goodbye. Instead, I lost her slowly—through hard conversations, long silences, and painful truths neither of us were ready to hold. It was a parenting accident, in the most human sense of the word. A collision of two hearts that loved each other deeply but couldn’t meet where it mattered most.
I tried to defend myself. Tried to make her see me, understand me. I couldn’t accept that she didn’t want to know the full story—the pieces of me that explained how I became who I am. But she didn’t want explanations. She wanted peace.
In choosing herself, she walked away. And in doing so, took from me the one person I have loved more than anything in this world.
I’d take the hurt again, the anger, the silence—just to stay in her life. But she made a decision I have to respect, even if it shatters me. She saw that I wasn’t healthy for her healing. And that truth, as much as it hurts, is one I’ve started to honor.
But admiring her clarity doesn’t quiet the ache in my chest.
So now, here I am—no longer a mother in the active sense, but still holding all the love with nowhere to place it. And I have to find a way to heal. For me.
I’m a visual person. I love lists, goals, and the satisfaction of crossing something off, even on the hard days. I needed a way to see my own healing. To track it, to touch it. So I created something that’s helping me—and I believe it can help others, too.
It’s called Countdown to Brighter Days.
It’s a visual and tangible way to walk yourself toward peace, even when your heart is in pieces. It’s a jar filled with intention—beautiful, meaningful items like shells or beads—each one representing a moment of progress, a promise to yourself. Each time you meet a small goal, you take one out. And slowly, you see your journey.
Maybe your goal is to journal for five minutes. Or to step outside and breathe. Maybe it’s brushing your hair or texting someone back. Whatever healing looks like for you, this gives it shape.
And when the jar is empty?
You’ll see how far you’ve come.
If you're hurting too—if you're grieving someone still alive, or struggling to find your footing after a life that no longer fits—this might be what helps you start again. Gently. Visually. One shell, one breath, one calm moment at a time.
Click here for step-by-step instructions for creating your own “Countdown to Brighter Days”
You’re not alone in this. Not now, not ever.
#PajamaLifeChronicles #SoloButSoFull #UnrushedAndUnstoppable
