Robyn Lynette Smith, My Mama bear, she was kind, loving, generous and that one-of-a-kind type of mum that anyone could ever want or need.
Mum raised my 2 sisters, my brother and I and then when we were old enough, began her path towards becoming a registered nurse, a career that suited her to a T. Mum was an amazing nurse, this showed in her work, her colleagues and her ability to further her education by completing her masters and becoming a clinical nurse in orthopedics.
Mum was the type of person who would take a challenge and roll with it to completion, from climbing bridges and to running short distances like a 5km then a 10km then hitting her mark in half marathons. What kind of 60-year-old decides to climb bridges and take up running, let alone half marathons? My mama, that’s who.
Quite simply put, my mum was an absolute superstar. But like all superstars, all good things come to an end, and my mum met her match with brain cancer. We found out mum had been diagnosed with Frontal Lobe NON-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma the same day we found out we were pregnant with our first baby, a devastatingly bittersweet day for our whole family.
Christmas 2019 was the last time I got to hug my mum and tell her I love her in person, July 21st at 10:30am was the last time I spoke to her. The last thing I got to say to my mum was that my son, Maverick, was here and that we are safe and okay. Nineteen days later she was gone. She fought so hard because that is just who my mum was, a fighter, right to the end.
Writing all this down, honestly feels like I am reliving the whole thing all over again, ripping my heart into pieces and punching a very big hole in my chest. Losing a loved one sucks in so many ways, but losing your mum is like losing a part of you that you will never get back. I honestly thought I understood what pain was, I truly had no idea.
Life post loss is ridiculously hard, the grieving process is ruthless, relentless and some days honestly feels like it will never be okay, and this is made 1000 times mores difficult by being a first-time mum at the same time. I need my mum, I want my mum, but she is no longer here.
I am anxious and apprehensive about this coming Mother’s Day, and to be honest, I am expecting it to be much like the day we received mum’s diagnosis and our baby news, bittersweet. I am wanting to be excited as it’s my first Mother’s Day as a mum, but also, my first without my own so I just do not know how I will feel at this point.
The one solace I have found amongst the tears and heartache, is the amazing community of women in the exact same boat as myself. I was introduced to Motherless daughters Australia (MDA) by my friend Tiff, sensing I would need some support where I would be able to decide how much or how little help I would need, and I am forever grateful to her for introducing me to MDA. It has been the little light I have needed some days to keep me going. The support group has been a massive help when I have needed it or even when I did not think I did.
Losing a mum, as I said before, sucks. But anyone that has been through it knows, each tear and every sad feeling, is accompanied by those good memories and happy times that we spent with our mums, I will never forget mum and I will always tell her stories and make sure my son knows the most amazing nana that waited and made sure he was here and okay before she said her final goodbye.
Motherless Daughters Australia is a not for profit organisation that represents, informs, supports and connects women and girls whose mums have died to help navigate the everyday and life’s key milestones.
You can find out more about them via their Facebook Page, Support Group, website or Instagram Page.