Turbulent Weather on Life's Highway: Grieving My Mom While Holding the Wheel Steady

Life's highway has thrown unexpected challenges my way, and even as the founder of Driven Livin', I've had seasons where standing tall with grace and dignity felt almost impossible.

The Dawn Phone Call That Changed Everything

In the summer of 2025, my husband Manlee and I finally relocated from Texas to California, a dream I had nurtured for years. You can hear that passion in early episodes of The Wellness Driven Life Show and see the giant ocean-themed picture in the background as evidence of my love for the West Coast. My mother used to laugh and say, "Keep dreamin', honey," whenever I mentioned it. The move was far from smooth; in a tough buyer's market, negotiations turned aggressive with lowball offers that heightened our anxiety amid all the unknowns. We made it through, and I love where we landed. Then, in November, just before Thanksgiving, my oldest daughter called at dawn: my mom had been rushed to the hospital. After speaking with the doctor, Manlee and I drove through the night to Colorado, where my brother, who drove from Montana, met us. She passed away not long after retiring, at just 67. My brother and I had just planned for her to spend winters with us in California and summers with him in Montana. As I write this, tears come — it remains fresh and private, unshared publicly because I value my personal space, especially in pain. It did not feel fair or timely. She was my anchor. Now, when the world feels overwhelmingly heavy, who do I call? In those moments, the ground beneath me seemed to vanish. Perhaps you have felt this kind of shattering loss.

Journaling Through the Grief: Reflect, Respond, Reveal

My years of self‑improvement practice rose to the surface, instinctively guiding me to Reflect on what was happening, choose how I would Respond, and notice what it would Reveal. I reflected: The hollow ache in my chest, her warm laugh echoing in empty rooms. What if this loss reveals the strength in me that I saw in her? Emotional intelligence helps me acknowledge the pain without letting it consume me; spiritual awareness reminds me that love endures beyond the physical. I chose to respond: I noted daily gratitudes, such as the way her "keep dreamin'" mantra led me here to California. What if these tears are watering new growth in my life? What this season has revealed is that when I reach out to my brother with shared memories, we can find laughter amid the tears. I posted a subtle update in The Drive Collective: "Navigating heavy fog today — earning my miles." Simple physical practices help, too, like staring at the ocean waves and watching them shift from chaos to calm. Pull Over moments — deep 4-7-8 breaths — visualizing her laughing.

What If Questions That Restored My Balance

What if this grief forges a deeper resilience within me? My intellect reframes the narrative, while my spirit begins to heal. As I journal, the dark swirls of sorrow slowly give way to hints of hope, culminating in the decision to plan a memorial hike in her honor. Resilience feels authentic now.

You become the hero when you journal through the storm and emerge transformed. Continue to part 2 on reclaiming motherhood. SIP Life Slowly: Open your journal today. Reflect on a heavy moment, pose one "What if" question to reframe it, and reveal a small step forward. Share a veiled win in The Drive Collective if it feels right. The highway ahead clears.

Get your own Driven Livin' Journal today to write out life's journey. Share your experiences with us in the Drive Collective.

AI-generated illustration of April reflecting on the highway after her mother's passing. Image created for Driven Livin'.