This past Sunday marked 20 years since my mom died after a courageous 13-month battle with brain cancer. Lately, she’s been on my mind more than usual. Grief has never been a straight line—it comes in waves. Sometimes it’s easy to smile at the memories; other times, the ache of her absence hits out of nowhere. There are days when my heart hurts for no clear reason—except that I just miss her. I miss her laugh. I miss her advice. I miss the way she made everything feel okay. I wish she were here to share in life’s moments, especially the ones involving her grandkids. I often find myself replaying an old recording of her voice, hoping to keep it fresh in my memory. I scroll through photos like the one below, smiling at the fun we had, but also grieving the plans we made for “someday” that never came. I probably drive my kids a little nuts with all the stories I tell—it's just that part of me deep inside that regrets not knowing all the things I feel like I should have known about h...