A Pain That Echoes: My Mother

Seven years ago, my mother had several mini-strokes brought on by her Type 2 diabetes and high blood pressure. She developed severe vascular dementia—a condition caused by reduced blood flow to the brain from strokes—and lost her memory until she passed away two years ago.

She forgot that her parents had passed and cried out for them. She forgot who her children and grandchildren were, never got a chance to know her great-grandchildren. And most days, she forgot who my stepdad was, after 40 years of marriage.

Though she had lucid moments, they got fewer and fewer as her dementia took over. As you can imagine, or maybe you’ve lived it, this was extremely painful.

I remember having conversations every day with my mom, and many debates. She was a bright, intelligent woman, and then she could barely speak. She got confused, agitated, so scared, didn’t remember where she was, who the people around her were, and just cried out, “I want to go home”, her childhood home that she could recall. This was a very painful experience for her and everyone around her.

And maybe this could have all been prevented, she was a stubborn woman, and even when warned by her doctors, refused to make any changes in her diet and lifestyle. “That’s what my medicine is for”, was her retort whenever changes were suggested, she just decided to rely on her medication, continued to live life like she always had.

My relationship with her was never easy, a jagged wound. She was smart, vibrant, but carried deep, unhealed pain—an unfulfilled, unlived life that left her, I believe, never truly happy. Her own trauma, buried in the silence of an era where women hid abuse—or faced being medicated, locked away, or worse—spilled onto us kids, carving emotional and spiritual scars.

I carried trauma from her choices, resentment for the hurt she caused. When dementia took her, I was angry, she left us to pick up the pieces of a woman who’d already broken so much.

It took time and work to find compassion, to see her pain was trapped in a time with no resources, no voice to heal. I had to let go of unforgiveness and the painful past—I had to release them. She wasn’t all bad or good, just human, caught in quiet torment.

Choices Matter

Your choices carry weight—not just for you, but for your kids, your loved ones, the ones who’ll carry your pain if you don’t heal. My mother’s inability to face her trauma—and her unwillingness to care for her physical health—left us kids scarred, my children grieving a grandma they’ll never truly know, and me bearing the weight of her unhealed wounds. She ignored her doctors’ warnings, dismissed changes to her diet and lifestyle, and that choice, alongside her buried pain, rippled outward, breaking those who loved her.

Every decision we make—to cling to resentment, to neglect our health, to let pain fester—shapes the lives of those who love us. But, you have the power to break that cycle, to spare them the resentment and grief I lived with. Choose to heal your heart, your spirit, your body, because your loved ones deserve a you who’s whole—not a shadow lost to pain.

That choice starts with one step—crossing the threshold.

Step Over the Threshold

In a quiet moment of prayer and meditation, one day, I asked out loud, “What’s holding me back?” In my mind’s eye, I saw a threshold. On one side—my children, grandchildren, a vibrant me—God’s outstretched hand waiting. All I had to do was cross. So why didn’t I? It was just one step over the threshold, what was holding me back?

I thought of toxic friendships—past their expiration date—behaviors I clung to for security, fear, my need to control, beliefs that didn’t serve me—all had to stay behind. It was scary, felt heavy, and the progress seemed slow. Then I remembered pregnancy and labor. it was uncomfortable—sometimes miserable—but worth it for the joy of the new life I would hold in my arms. Birthing a new you is no different—it can be challenging and slow—like labor—but crossing that threshold is how you live fully into your God-given destiny.

By healing your trauma—your emotional and spiritual pain—you heal generations forward—your kids, grandkids—and backward—honoring those like my mother who couldn’t heal in their era’s silence.

Do It for Your Kids and Those Who Love You

Your kids, your loved ones need you whole, alive, present. Why let unhealed trauma, emotional pain, spiritual wounds rob you of time with them? Why let ill-health steal your vitality, leaving them to mourn a shadow of who you could be? We have choices—knowledge about wellness and trauma—the freedom to seek help without shame. Unlike our mothers—we can break the cycle of pain—resentment—grief—that leaves loved ones picking up our pieces. Don’t let your kids face the agony I carried—mourning a mother lost to a shell of herself.

As a Strategic Intervention Coach and Holistic Practitioner, I’m passionate about guiding you to step over that threshold—to heal your heart, body, and soul—sparing your kids and those who love you the weight of your unhealed wounds. Your choices shape their lives—their hearts—their futures.

If you won’t do it for you—do it for them. Step over that threshold today—start healing.

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To your healing—and your family’s future!

~We leave the legacy we live