Me Time in the Aftershock

I’m still finding my way back to writing and sharing after my mom passed.

I’ve been calling her passing “an out-of-body adventure.” It originally softened the blow for me—something about those words helped me hold the unbearable. It’s what I believe, and it’s what I want to believe… that she’s still here, just in another form. That our souls keep going. That there’s more.

That phrase helped me breathe at first. But now it’s starting to burn in my throat.

Because I miss her. Because I’m still raw. Because this loss doesn’t feel like a soft float into spirit—it feels like my life was ripped, and I’m learning how to breathe through the tear.

For the past 36 days, I’ve allowed myself to do nothing. I’ve been materially unproductive. I’ve been claiming “me time” during this phase of mourning. But let me be honest: I haven’t been doing nothing.

I’ve been preparing for my youngest son’s graduation. Bracing for him being gone all summer on his adventure. Bracing for my oldest to be away working for a few months. Watching my husband find his rhythm in his new work.

And now, I’m sitting here thinking, I need to DO something.

Yes, I’m going to mow the lawn after this. But I mean Doooooo something. Capital D. Soul-deep. Life-anchoring. Something.

And then I have to catch myself and remember: this time of material nothingness IS something.

My life has imploded. The aftershock of a life-quake is still reverberating through my bones. My teeth feel like they’re rattling from the inside out. My soul is trying to reassemble the pieces—but what does that even look like now? What will it look like?

This is not a time to push. Not a time to force.

This is a time to allow.

To define my time as I am now. To make way for the version of me that is meant to rise in this next chapter of my life.

This Me Time is not to be cursed, rushed, or dismissed as inconvenient.

This is the chrysalis. The holy ache.

This Me Time is here to usher me forward—not back.

And I will let it.

Let me know if you’d like a graphic or a follow-up reflection to pair with it. I’m here for you.