Remembering BB

The thing about losing a parent is that you don't just lose a person. You lose a voice you've heard your entire life. You lose the person you instinctively want to call when something wonderful happens or when everything falls apart. You lose someone who knew you before you knew yourself. 

I've delayed writing this post because putting these words on paper somehow feels like admitting that my mom is really gone.

My mom was strong in ways that are hard to describe. As a young woman, she often joked that she went to the "School of Hard Knocks" because, in her day, her father believed women didn't go to college—they got married. And married she did. But she also worked outside the home, determined to build something of her own. She was incredibly intelligent, driven, and hard working. She never made the same mistake more than once is what I've been told. And during a time in which women had to work twice as hard to earn the respect they deserved, she built a successful career and business. 

I don't know much about her young life other than the stories she and others told me but I do know that throughout my life she was my safe place. When I was a girl she took me on great adventures, comforted me when I was sad, but most importantly she empowered me. She was my biggest cheerleader and the reason I grew up believing I could accomplish anything I set my mind to. That confidence carried me through my teenage years and into adulthood. Like most daughters, my teenage years were filled with arguments as I searched for my own identity. She would jokingly say that an alien had come and taken her sweet little baby. By the time I hit my 20s and was out in the real world, I realized how valuable her advice, love, and support were. During my 30s and 40s our relationship evolved into something even more special. She became not only my mother, but one of my closest friends and business partner.

My mom had an extraordinary ability to make everyone around her feel like they were her best friend. She was thoughtful in ways that are difficult to put into words and never boastful about her kindness. In the weeks since she passed, I've heard story after story from people whose lives she quietly impacted, many of which I had never known. One story, in particular, has stayed with me. After one of her close friends passed away, my mom knew her friend's son was struggling and missing the daily phone call his mother always made to check on him. Without ever telling anyone, my mom began calling him every morning at the exact same time his mother had called. She did that for months, simply because she didn't want him to feel alone. That was who she was. She noticed when people were hurting and found quiet, meaningful ways to let them know someone cared.

She built an incredible legacy, one that will not be forgotten by those who were lucky enough to know and love her. Grief comes in waves. Some moments are filled with gratitude for the years we had together. Other moments are filled with the pain of wishing we had one more conversation, one more hug, one more chance to ask her a question. I am heartbroken she is gone but I am grateful she was here. 

I am grateful for the lessons she taught, the example she set, the memories we made and the love she gave to all. The world is better because my mom was in it. I am who I am today because of Brenda Altman. We will always love and miss her.