Honoring Miss Bee: Six Years Without My Mother
Today is a day I never thought I’d have the strength to face — the 6th anniversary of my mother’s passing. Six years. It’s surreal. I remember the day she died like it was yesterday, and the morning after feels like an eternity ago. I remember not wanting to wake up the next morning, much less learning how to live without her. But I did. I had to. I had no choice.
I speak openly about my struggles with suicidal thoughts in the years that followed her death. The weight of grief was suffocating, crushing me under the sheer force of it. I wanted to disappear. But the thought of my children feeling the same emptiness I was feeling kept me from going through with it. The thought of my spouse, Ju, being left to navigate life as a hollow shell of what I once was—it was unbearable. And the fear of taking my own life and missing the chance to reunite with my mother in Heaven was overwhelming.
All of these thoughts, each more painful than the last, forced me to find a way to live this life in a way that honors my mother and keeps her memory alive. Yes, the pain is fucking unbearable at times. Other times, joy, love, peace, and light flood over me unexpectedly, like a gift. Both experiences — the heartache and the peace — are part of the journey. And as a grief coach, I’ve learned that you can’t reject the feelings, no matter how messy or overwhelming they are. You can’t stuff them down, hoping they’ll disappear. They resurface — often stronger than before — or worse, they misdirect into places they don’t belong.
So, here I am, six years later, still standing. I’ve worked hard over these years to honor my mother’s legacy in ways that reflect her life, love, and the way she cared for others. You may be wondering how I prepared for this day, how I’ve managed to face it without collapsing under the weight of grief. I began preparing on January 1, 2024. I knew this day was coming, whether I was ready or not. October 21st wasn’t going to stop just because I wasn’t prepared. So, I had to make a decision about how I would navigate this day.
Here’s How I Prepared for Today:
First and foremost, let me say this: I’m sharing my experience in hopes of connecting with you, not as a “how-to” guide for navigating your loved one’s death anniversary. Everyone’s grief journey is different. But this is what I did.
1. Protected Myself from Painful Memories
My mother’s hospitalization and sudden death were documented on Facebook six years ago. The whole month of October is etched in my mind, but I didn’t need Facebook to remind me of that painful time. So, I suspended my Facebook memories for the month. I needed protection from the constant replays of those moments. I don’t need Facebook to tell me how she died — I remember every detail.
2. Celebrated Her Legacy Through My Memoir
It’s been five years since I published my memoir, and it’s a tribute to her legacy. Talking about the book with you all has been a powerful way to keep her memory alive. Every time someone reads my story, they’re honoring Miss Bee too. That brings me peace.
3. Planned a Family Brunch
I knew I needed to be surrounded by people who loved me and loved my mother. So, I planned a brunch with family. Being around them, especially my grandson — who is the jelly to my peanut butter — is life-giving. His energy, his joy, his presence, they all help me breathe a little easier.
4. Gave Myself Space to Relax
This month, I consciously chose not to overwork myself. I took on less than usual. I spent time in my hot tub, letting the warmth soothe my muscles that always seem to tense up when I’m stressed. I gave myself permission to slow down, to rest, to be.
5. Poured My Heart Into My Non-Profit
This month, I dedicated even more of myself to The Heart of Miss Bee, Inc., my non-profit organization that honors my mother’s legacy. We added five new board members this month, a testament to how her spirit continues to inspire and connect people.
6. Leaned on My Spouse
Ju has always been my rock. Whenever my heart felt too heavy, I talked to her, day or night. She’s always there, listening, holding space for me. It’s more than I could ever ask for, and I’m endlessly grateful for her presence in my life.
7. Found Comfort in My Little Dog
I can’t forget my little doggie, whose unconditional love and loyalty have brought me to tears at times. He’s a constant reminder of love, even in the smallest, furriest forms. His quiet companionship has been healing in ways I can’t even put into words.
These are just a few of the ways I prepared for today. And here I am, living through it, honoring my mother, Miss Bee, with every breath I take.
Grief is messy. It’s heavy. But today, as I honor the life of the woman who gave me everything, I also honor my own strength, my own journey. I miss her every day. The pain still sneaks up on me, no matter how much time passes. But I’ve learned to live with it. I’ve learned to honor her memory in ways that bring light, even in the darkest moments.
If you’re grieving, know this: you are not alone. Your journey is unique, but there is space for all of us in this world of grief. I’m still walking this path, just as you are. And today, I honor Miss Bee. Forever.
With love,
Kinyatta