The Nineteenth Hour: A Mother’s Day Tribute

A Healing Avoidant Reflection on the Mom Who Didn’t Raise Me—But Still Changed Everything

Mother’s Day is complicated when your mom wasn’t really there.

Mine left when I was twelve. And for years, I carried a version of that story that felt like abandonment, even if I didn’t know how to name it. I learned to survive without her. Learned to protect myself. Learned to stay busy, stay numb, stay safe.

But it turns out, you can only outrun pain for so long before it catches up.

And when it did—when I had to face the truth of who she was, and who I became without her—God didn’t meet me with punishment.He met me with presence.

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” – Psalm 34:18

Through her passing, I encountered a mercy I didn’t think I deserved.And somehow, that’s where this story really begins.

She Didn’t Raise Me—But Her Death Raised Something in Me

A week before she passed, I was asked to write a letter to my mom. Read it here.

Not to mail. Not to read aloud.

Just… to write.

What poured out wasn’t polished or poetic. It was raw. Honest. Years of grief, resentment, and buried longing—all of it spilled onto the page.

That letter didn’t fix everything. But it cracked open something in me I had sealed shut since I was a kid.

Two days later, she was rushed to the ER.

Room 19.

And just like that, the number that marked my dad’s passing—8/19, in Room 219, almost 8:19 PM—showed up again.

Over and over.

“You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book.” – Psalm 56:8 (NLT)

At first, I didn’t know what to make of it.

But deep down, I knew—these weren’t coincidences.

They were confirmations.

Grief Became My Lent

In a previous blog, From Ashes to Imprints, I shared how grief stripped me bare. How in losing both of my parents, I was also losing my excuses. My coping mechanisms. My avoidance.

Mom’s death wasn’t just a loss.It was the breaking point that led me back to God.

“Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me.” – Psalm 51:10

I didn’t just lose my mother—I found my need for the Father.And for the first time in a long time, I let Him in.

Mercy in Motion

My sister, who spent 19 years caring for Mom, stayed by her side every day during her final week. She prayed the Divine Mercy Chaplet over her again and again. And in Mom’s last moments, right as they said Amen, her heart stopped.

Time of death: 1:19 PM.

“Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.” – Matthew 5:7

That wasn’t just answered prayer—it was mercy made manifest.And it changed both of us forever.

The Sister Who Carried Her Home

I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to thank my sister enough.

She was Mom’s angel on earth—fighting for her to come home from the hospital, praying over her every day, giving her the kind of care and closeness I never could. Her faith, her strength, and her obedience made sure Mom’s last days were filled with hope, laughter, and peace.

She didn’t just help Mom pass well—she helped me believe again.

This Is the Work of Healing Avoidant

I didn’t start Healing Avoidant because I had all the answers.

I started it because I finally had the courage to ask the questions.

Why did I push people away?

Why was vulnerability so hard for me?

Why was love—real love—something I feared more than I welcomed?

Her absence shaped me.

Her death awakened me.

And God’s grace is what’s rewriting the rest.

“And I will give you a new heart, and I will put a new spirit in you. I will take out your stony, stubborn heart and give you a tender, responsive heart.” – Ezekiel 36:26 (NLT)

Today, I Own My Presence

At church this morning, the message was clear:“Own your presence.”

And for the first time in my life, I think I am.

I’m owning where I’ve been.

I’m owning who I’ve become.

I’m owning the healing God is doing through me—not just for me, but for anyone who’s still searching for hope in their own broken places.

If you’re reading this, maybe this is part of your own calling, too.

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” – Romans 8:28

Mom, You Weren’t There—But God Was

This Mother’s Day, I’m not holding flowers.I’m holding faith.

I’m not rewriting the past.I’m letting God redeem it.

And through your final chapter, He began a new one in me.

To the Ones With Complicated Mother Wounds

If your story isn’t the Hallmark card kind, I see you.

If grief feels confusing, or faith feels far away—take heart.

God meets us in the ashes. And He stays for the rebuilding.

A Closing Prayer

Lord, thank You for using even loss to lead us closer to You.

For anyone reading this who’s hurting today, let them feel seen, held, and gently led back to Your mercy.

Help us honor the broken pieces, and trust You to make something holy out of them.

Amen.