I remember the exact time my sister-in-law called me on July 29, 2022. Her words were frantic, but I told her, we are on our way! It’ll be okay. The Paramedics will fix it! She’ll be okay. But Brody, I think he knew. Something in his silence told me what I was unwilling to believe. There was no fucking way, that my mom would just die. It wasn’t possible. I was in total denial, and somedays I still think I am. She did everything to stay alive, and I need my mom still … so no. Not. Fucking. Possible. She couldn’t have.
I raced into our family home, still in my pajamas, heart pounding in my chest. And that’s when I heard it—my dad say “She’s gone…Kaela, she is gone” I said no, they are in there with her! It will be ok. But … those words shattered something inside of me that can never be put back together, no matter how much I have tried. Within an hour, the house began to fill. Family, neighbours—people came from everywhere, wrapping us in love and disbelief. I remember hearing people rush in, I remember wondering how – they all got here? Each tear, each hug, each whisper Kaela, I am so sorry … it made it both more real and more unbearable. The moments blurred together, and yet, I *think* I remember every detail. The way I couldn’t catch my breath. The way time seemed to stretch, making the hours feel like seconds and lifetimes all at once. The woman who kept our family together, the woman who raised me, the woman who would show up at the exact moment I needed her, always … was just … gone?
Losing my mom wasn’t just tragic—it was like someone reached into my life and ripped out the ground beneath my feet. I think sometimes, I am still trying to catch my footing. One moment, she texted asking if I can order her and my Dad Cactus … that was our last text message exchange. “Your dinner is there, Enjoy!” And her response “Tanks! Order for you and Brody tomorrow!” Are you fucking kidding me? THAT was my last exchange with my mom? What in the actual fuck. I didn’t put I love you. I didn’t put a red heart. I didn’t say anything remotely close, had I known, that would’ve been the last time.
That day, we were surrounded by people who showed up for us, who loved us in our darkest hour. They didn’t fix anything—but they stood with us. And in that moment, and honestly now… that is all anyone can do. Our longtime family friends, mom passed away a few weeks ago. And I couldn’t think of anything to say, other than “I got nothing. I get it. It sucks. I see you, and I am so sorry”.
I wish I could end this blog by saying I have the answers, that I’ve made peace with everything. But I haven’t. I probably never will. Grief is around always, walking beside me as I try to figure out what life looks like without her, in all the moments. In the moments of struggle, in the moments of trying to make her recipes and they just aren’t coming out right, in the moments I am fucking up a quilt and wishing I could just ask her. People tell me, ‘she is always with you’ and somedays I’m like yes, totally she’s always around! And other days I want to say, that isn’t a helpful response? Because right now, I need to hug my mom, I need to ask her a question and hear her response.
And if you’re reading this, walking through the shadows of your own loss, I see you. I know how heavy it feels. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: Ask the questions, about the recipes, the stories, the medical details—whatever you need to know. Don’t wait. And remind the people you love that they are so worthy, and so, so enough.
Because in the end, those moments and words will matter more than you can imagine.
To my Mom:
I love you endlessly. I wish you were here. I wish I hugged you more. I wish I had asked more questions. I wish I had more answers. I wish I had more time.
I will never, stop needing you.
