It’s that time of year again when I find myself reflecting on the past, especially the days when my mother, Bonnie Jean Taylor, was still with me. She was more than just a mother—she was my best friend. I miss everything about her. However, even though she’s no longer physically here, I still feel her presence in my life. I can still hear her voice, reminding me of what’s right and challenging me when I stray from what’s best for me.
This year feels different, though. In the past, this time would be marked by overwhelming sadness, grief, and the feeling that I was still mourning. But not this year. I’ve come to realize that my relationship with my mother has evolved. Her words now resonate within me in a way that brings much more comfort. While I don’t always hear her voice, I find myself reflecting on her advice, asking, “What would Bonnie do?”—kind of like the way people say, “What would Jesus do?” (WWJD). For me, it’s WWBD. My mother lives on in my thoughts, and I welcome her there. It keeps me grounded, self-aware, and much more discerning when it comes to others’ nonsense.
This is the first year since 1986 that I didn’t cry myself to sleep the night before her birthday. The first year I didn’t secretly fall apart. Maybe I’ve matured, or perhaps I’ve finally forgiven God—yes, forgiven God—for taking her so young. For the first time, I trust that God had a plan for her, and it wasn’t meant to hurt me. While I still don’t fully understand that plan, I find peace in the words of Jeremiah 29:11: “For I know the plans I have for you… plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” This verse has become my anchor.
I share all of this not only because writing brings me comfort, but also because I know so many others have experienced the loss of someone dear—a parent, spouse, or child. Don’t let anyone dictate how long it should take for you to heal or stop feeling the weight of their absence. Grief is a personal journey, and each of us travels it in our own way and at our own pace. My mother passed away thirty-eight years ago, and it has taken me that long to feel whole again. Take your time. Honor your feelings. Keep moving forward, and in time, you’ll reach the place you need to be. Everyone’s journey is different, and no two people grieve the same way.
I miss you, Ma. I love you dearly. Happy Heavenly Birthday. Continue resting in heavenly peace. You’d be proud, I’m sure of it.
❤
TRACI J. HINDS 