A Journey of Love, Loss, and Living: My Story as a Bereaved Daughter & Mother

Motherhood entered my life on July 30, 2010. I was just 21 years old, wide-eyed and hopeful, imagining that day to be like the ones I had seen on TV sitcoms. A recovery room full of laughter, tears of joy, and the happy ending of bringing home two beautiful, healthy babies. But life had a different script for me.

That afternoon, I became the mother of two babies: a healthy baby boy and a “blue” baby girl. While I celebrated the life of my son, I GRIEVED the life I had envisioned for my daughter. This is where my world of GRIEF began. Motherhood for me took place in one familiar place which was home and the unfamiliar place which were the halls of a hospital, with monitors beeping, doctors explaining, and prayers whispered into sterile air. My baby girl was born with medical complexities that would shape not only her journey but mine.

Losing My Mother While Becoming One

Three years later, in the middle of learning how to be a mother to a medically complex child, I faced the most devastating loss a daughter can endure: the death of my own mother, Toni Latrese Brooks, on March 8, 2013.

My mom was everything. My provider, my confidant, my advocate, my safe place, my biggest cheerleader. She was also my partner in motherhood, sitting with me through countless hospital stays, holding my hand when doctors gave difficult news, and standing firm in faith that her granddaughter would fight and survive. She called her a Warrior, and that is exactly who she was.

I can still hear my mom’s voice saying, “My grandbaby will outlive me.” And she was right. But even in that truth, there was heartbreak. When my mom left this earth, a piece of me went with her. I lost not only my mother but also the woman who taught me how to mother, especially in circumstances that were anything but ordinary.

In moments of deep sorrow, I hold on to God’s promise: “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18).

The Unimaginable: Losing My Daughter

Fast forward to 2025. I had just started walking closer with Christ, seeking healing for the parts of me that still felt broken from my mother’s passing. I never could have imagined that five months into that spiritual walk, I would face yet another earth-shattering loss.

On May 27, 2025, my daughter, my UniqWarrior, my Jahmya, gained her heavenly discharge.

For 14 years, I watched her fight like no other. She endured surgeries, procedures, tests, hospital admissions, and endless appointments. And time after time, she came home. Despite every battle, every setback, every doctor’s doubt, she always came back to me.

But this time was different. This time, she was not discharged home. She was discharged to heaven.

There are no words big enough to capture the hollow ache of leaving a hospital without your child. Her cell phone, gaming system, beats headphones, bed, clothes and shoes, sit as painful reminders of a life that feels unfinished. And yet, in that unbearable moment, I also felt something else: peace. A peace that whispered, she is healed now.

And I cling to this: “He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away” (Revelation 21:4).

Two Places That Changed Me Forever

If I could sum up the last 14 years of my life, I would say this: they have led me to two places that changed me forever, the hospital and the cemetery.

At the hospital, you learn how fragile life really is. You see how quickly health can shift, how miraculous a single breath is, how deeply you can love when you are watching someone fight to stay alive. You learn that good health is not something to take for granted, it is one of the most beautiful gifts we will ever receive.

At the cemetery, you learn something even more sobering: life is fragile, fleeting, and temporary. The ground we walk on today could be the roof over our head tomorrow. You realize that all the things we chase, status, money, material possessions, mean nothing compared to love, memories, and faith.

In the midst of those hard lessons, I lean on God’s word: “So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal” (2 Corinthians 4:18).

What I Carry Forward

As a daughter without her mother, and a mother without one of her daughters, I carry both grief and gratitude in the same breath. Grief for what I have lost, and gratitude for the time I was given.

I carry the lessons my mother instilled in me: strength, faith, resilience, and unconditional love. I carry the UniqWarrior spirit my daughter showed me every single day of her life. And I carry the responsibility to live fully, not in spite of my losses, but because of them.

If you are a mother raising a medically complex child, know this: you are not alone. Your strength is real, even on the days you feel weak. Your tears are holy, even when no one else sees them. And your love is powerful beyond words.

If you are a daughter grieving your mother, know this: the bond never breaks. Her voice, her touch, her lessons, they live inside you, guiding you even in her absence.

Even when it feels unbearable, God’s word reminds me: “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand” (Isaiah 41:10).

And for those who have not experienced either — losing a parent or saying goodbye to a child — I say this with love: be grateful. Do not wait for grief to teach you the value of presence. Hug your children a little longer. Call your mom or dad and listen to their voice with your whole heart. Take pictures, make memories, laugh loudly, and say “I love you” often. Those things may feel small in the moment, but they become treasures when time has its way.

Gratitude is something you can hold in your hands today. Be thankful for the ordinary moments, because one day you will realize they were the extraordinary ones all along.

My Prayer for You

My prayer is that you live boldly, love deeply, and cherish every single moment. Do not wait for tomorrow to live the life God has given you today. Because tomorrow is never promised.

Live life to the fullest. Love hard. Make memories. Breathe gratitude. And hold close the people you love, because you never know when the ground beneath your feet will become the roof above your head.