Part Of My Story Belongs To My Mother

Recently, a new friend of mine asked me about my story…about my mother’s death and about my own cancer diagnosis.  While seated at my lovely friend’s dining room table, all the time hand sewing a gift for my grandmother, I told the cliff notes version of my mother’s diagnosis, treatments, and death…followed ultimately two months later by my own Valentine’s Day biopsy surgery and my own diagnosis.

I cried….but I did not fully enter that space either.  That space of sorrow and loss still feels like such a black hole of grief and pain.  So much still feels missing from my life since my mother left.

I wish that my mother could see what I have tried to build here…what Lacuna Loft has come to mean to me.  At the same time, without my mother’s death I’m not sure Lacuna Loft would have come to be.  It is intriguing to me how these things in life evolve.  How rebirth can come out of such loss and sadness.