How do you measure a life? My mama's legacy of love
Tricia Creason-Valencia Tricia Creason-Valencia

How do you measure a life? My mama's legacy of love

I am lucky to have been her daughter. I grew up believing in myself, with a confidence that she cultivated in me every single day. I believed I was worthy of love because she showed me that I am. I didn’t realize what a gift she’d given me; how does one recognize what just…is?

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When will my mama forget me? Becoming fluent in the language of grief
Tricia Creason-Valencia Tricia Creason-Valencia

When will my mama forget me? Becoming fluent in the language of grief

I discovered the phrase “ambiguous grief” recently. It perfectly encapsulates the overwhelming sorrow I sometimes feel after spending time with my mother. Often, upon returning home, I take to my bed for a day or two, weeping, unable to function. Each return feels like a mini-death ritual, yet…she is alive.

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