Leaf of Freya


I have debated on rewriting this page for months now, ever since my mom died.


I still believe in what my page originally said. My goal in life, my purpose, will always be to help others grow and realize themselves, and sometimes that is best done by sharing.


Experiences, emotions, thoughts, fears. Triumphs and tribulations alike.


Sometimes the best way to learn is to show someone, share with them, your own experience. Sometimes you have to share the story of how you fought the same demons, and came out victorious in the end. Maybe with new scars and gashes, wounds that will need to heal, but you survived. You won your battle and so, too, can they.


My current battle, the challenge I am facing every day I wake up, every second I breathe, is the reality that on April 4th 2016 my mother died. At the age of 27 I became the matriarch of my family.


I have “hard” days sometimes. I refuse to think of them as bad. Mom wanted me to live a full life, and I am trying my hardest to honor her wish, but sometimes it’s hard. It’s hard to care. It’s hard to live. The pain is so excruciating sometimes that all I can do is literally scream. Over and over and over. I shriek in rage and fury. I screech at the feelings of injustice, wrongness, and loneliness. I scream with every fiber of my being until my voice is raw and I am exhausted and spent and there is nothing left in me to give, to feel.


Because of this change in my life my writings can be difficult to read. They are pure and free form and the anguish in them is very real. But so, too, is the peace I find at the end. The happiness I am able to find in my days. The connectedness and support I receive from my fellow humans and the universe.


I write about it all. This isn’t a highlight blog where there’s only the pretty things in life. This IS my life. Unaltered. Unadulterated. It’s the good. The bad. The easy. The hard. The uncontainable smile of accomplishment and pride. The scraped and bloodied knees from falling down.


This is everything, and right now I’m fighting the hardest battle I’ve ever had to face. Figuring out how to live my life, how to stand on my own without my mentor and guiding sun to cushion my falls.


Some days are hard, and I get through them. I know I will have more, and I am ok with that. I accept my reality as much as I wish I could rage against, change it, will it back to the way it was.


THIS is where I am at. Here. In the present. In my reality. My mom is no longer physically here with me. I’ll never hear her voice on the other end of the phone. She will never be able to stand in front of me and do the “I told you so dance” when I accomplish something I was having anxiety over. Her eyes will never glitter with happiness or water with tears of sorrow.


But that doesn’t mean she’s not with me.


This is me figuring out myself. This is me figuring out this new spiritual relationship with my best friend and mentor. This is me being open, honest, vulnerable, angry, and scared. This is me healing, recovering, and living.


I will do more than just exist. I will live each day to the fullest because that is what I promised I would do. My story isn’t over and this blog, this small, insignificant space in the vastness of all of the Internet, will continue to be my saga, recounting everything I accomplish along with everything I overcome.


16 thoughts on “Leaf of Freya

  1. Hi Freya – as you can see I have not been on Luna’s Universe much this spring. Just catching up a bit on blogs I follow this week-end. Not finding your “write to me” page I am leaving you a note here and a big virtual hug. Take care of yourself ! 🙂 Luna

    Liked by 1 person

    • Hey Luna,

      It’s so good to hear from you. I never thought about people wanted to send me a personal message. I’ll have to go in and create a “write me page”. : )

      Thank you so much for your kind words and the hug. I can’t put into words how much it helped to brighten my day.

      Wishing you the best.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. I’m glad that you write about raw emotions. It’s really painful to read about what you’re going through, and I can only imagine how painful it is for you, yourself.

    I’ve lost my mom too, so I can relate a bit to your current posts. I wrote about it here: https://dailywarriors.wordpress.com/2016/10/31/883/

    I really admire you for being strong, and honoring what your mom would have wanted for you to do. To keep going and keep striving in your life, no matter how weak you feel or how tough it gets.

    I’m sure she would be proud of you for doing your best to cope with this loss. And let me tell you, this space.. this blog.. is completely significant. Your story is significant.

    As I read through your words that reflect my own emotions of grief and sorrow, there is a comfort that somehow there are others like me who are struggling.. and yet, they are dealing with life as best they can. And you are one of those inspiring people.

    Keep writing. I have found it to be quite therapeutic myself.

    Stay strong, warrior! (hug)

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you so much, Liz, for reaching out to me. And thank you for linking your post.

      It hurt to read, but in a good way if that makes any sense. When you wrote about the rage and screaming and asking why, I know all of those feelings. I remember asking the Universe what I had done that was so horrible that I deserved to have my mom taken from me.

      After she died I had to wait a week to get her urn. I took a trip to California to see my friends from college; people I hadn’t seen in almost four years. I needed to stay busy. I needed to not have time to think.

      I remember the first and only time I felt angry with my mom was while I was driving back through the mountains and desert. My mind was wondering and somehow my thoughts tripped over her choosing to leave instead of fighting, fighting harder than she had been. How could she leave me? How could she abandon me like this? How could she be so selfish to not think about me, or my brothers, or my nephew and sister-in-law? How could she do this to all of us?

      And then, instantly, soul crushing guilt because I know it wasn’t her choice. If she could still be here she would and out of the whole world she is the person least deserving of my anger.

      I’m sorry we both hurt. I wish there were ways to make it easier, or better, but there aren’t. The only thing I can offer is comfort and understanding; compassion for the emotions you feel because they reflect so strongly what I also feel and struggle to find peace and acceptance with.

      I’m glad even though my writings are hard to read sometimes that you find them therapeutic. It helps to write. The emotions are raw, primal, and most of the time it hurts as much to write as to read. I believe it was Ernest Hemingway who said, “There is nothing to writing. All do you do is sit at the typewriter and bleed.”

      I think of my writings as the blood of my emotional and spiritual wounds, pouring from my fingertips onto blank word documents and sheets of paper. It’s my spirit crying in anguish as it tries to heal, as I try to figure out who I am in the absence of my mentor. She was my guiding light, the person who showed me how to be loving, caring, kind.

      Many people talk about how they despise their parents and hope to never turn out like them. If I could be half the person, a quarter of the person, my mother was I would count myself as fortunate, grateful, and honored to have lived up to even a measure of the person she was.

      I know she’s still with me. I see her in my dreams sometimes. I feel her presence. It’s an extremely different relationship though and I still struggle with the change. I’m human and selfish and I want my hugs and phone calls. I want my trips home where we can have lunch together.

      Life’s a journey and right now it has a lot of dark moments for me, like this past week. I’m worried about what’s ahead as I get closer to the one year mark. I know I’ll make it through all of this, it would be really nice if I could see the overall arch of my life and know how I’m supposed to do it, though. I guess that would take all of the interest out of the adventure. We keep reading to find out what happens next. If we already knew the ending there wouldn’t be a point in turning the page.

      Thank you again for your comment. I can’t put into words how much it means to me. If you need anything, I’m here.

      Wishing you nothing but the best,


      Liked by 1 person

      • Hi Jen.. I just wanted you to know my story to understand where my comments where coming from. I appreciate that you really did took the time to read through the post. It was actually years ago.. I think its been 14 years now? Wow. I wished i had more time with her. But anyways… Things will get better. I dont think there’s really any way out of the emotions but through it. Keep writing and keep inspiring us all with your blog. Hemingway’s quote was awesome btw. I wish I could have met him (random thought).

        Doing things to keep yourself busy is a good idea. Also doing things out of the old routine, maybe new traditions or something. I was mad at the world in the beginning, disgusted how it kept turning and people kept going on with their lives after my loss. But I guess I just learned to accept it as it is.

        Life goes on. And maybe the least we can do is to be someone our loved ones would be proud of… At least that’s partly how I got the strength to move forward. She may have passed away but she still inspires me to do my best.

        I guess that’s what a good mother does… I’m really glad that we connected in this blogosphere. See you around in posts and comments. Hope you’re having a good day so far. 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

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