I Still Move…For Her!
I hear so many moms say they just want to leave this world to be with their child. So many talk about not knowing how to go on, how to keep living after the loss. And while I completely understand those feelings—because I’ve lost my daughter too—I also believe something deeply:
We are meant to live after the loss of a child.
It’s just… a different kind of life.
It’s a life where we learn to carry grief with us, always.
It’s a life where we move forward without a piece of our heart.
But we can move.
We must move.
If you could have just one more conversation with your child, I truly believe they would tell you to keep going.
I believe that because I had that conversation with my daughter, Schuylar.
I know not every mom gets that gift—and my heart aches for those who didn’t get to say goodbye. But I also know the flip side: I had to watch my daughter suffer. I had to watch cancer take over her body and mind for 18 months. And in those final, sacred moments, she made me promise her some very specific things.
She made me promise to keep my FAITH strong.
She made me promise not to give up.
She made me promise to keep living for her.
She made me promise to help her husband find love again one day…
To make sure her 2-year-old son would grow up knowing who she was.
To make sure people remembered her.
And that’s what I do. Every single day, I move.
Some days, it’s slow. Some days, I cry the entire time. But I still move.
I wear her clothes.
I watch our favorite shows.
I go to the concerts we loved.
I keep her close in every way I can.
And most importantly—I keep showing up for those she loved.
Because Schuylar knew her son would need me.
Her husband would need me.
My husband, her siblings, our entire family would still need me.
She said to me, “Momma, if you don’t take care of them, who’s going to?”
That girl of mine—always wise beyond her years—knew I still had a purpose here.
So yes, the days are hard. I still cry every single day.
But I get up. I breathe. I pray.
And I move… for her.
I’m not an expert. I don’t have all the answers.
And I know every grief journey is unique.
But I believe this with my whole heart:
Your child would want you to move, too.
