Content warning: This introduction contains mentions of death and drowning.

The Enduring Legacy of Axel’s Love

The words you are about to read are more than just an article – they are the heartfelt outpourings of a young soul wise beyond his years. Axel was only 14 when he penned these profound reflections on losing his mother at the tender age of 9. His journal entries, raw and unfiltered, offer a poignant glimpse into the mind and heart of a child grappling with immense grief and loss.

Axel’s insights are all the more precious because he, too, was taken from this world far too soon. At the age of 22, Axel (Alex – my nephew’s real name) lost his life in a tragic drowning accident, leaving behind a family and community who loved him deeply. The pain of his loss is still keenly felt by all who knew him.

But even in the face of such unspeakable tragedy, Axel’s spirit lives on through his words. His journal stands as a testament to his resilience, his wisdom, and his boundless capacity for love. Through sharing his experience, he reminds us of the unbreakable bond between parent and child, and the enduring power of love in the face of even the greatest losses.

Reading Axel’s words, it’s impossible not to be struck by the depth of his emotional intelligence and his ability to articulate such complex feelings at a young age. His insights into grief, healing, and the importance of family support are profound and deeply moving.

It is my hope that by sharing Axel’s story, we can honor his memory and his mother’s legacy. May his words bring comfort to those navigating their own grief journeys, and may they serve as a reminder to cherish the love we have while we have it.

Though Axel’s time with us was far too short, his impact on those who loved him is immeasurable. His kindness, his sense of humor, his creative spirit – these are the things we will remember and hold dear. Axel’s life, like his mother’s, was a beautiful gift, and one that will continue to inspire and guide us all.

Thank you, Axel, for sharing your heart with us. Your light will never be forgotten.

And now, we invite you to read on, to experience Axel’s journey in his own words. Though the path he walks is difficult, his destination is one of hope, healing, and everlasting love.

The Day My World Shattered: Losing My Mom at Age 9

A Pain Like No Other

I was only 9 years old when my mom died. It felt like my entire world had been ripped apart, like nothing would ever be okay again. Losing a parent is hard at any age, but when you’re still just a kid, it’s even more confusing and scary. My mom was my everything – my best friend, my comforter, my guide through life. And then, in an instant, she was gone.

So Many Questions, So Few Answers

I had so many questions after my mom died. Why did this happen to her? To me? Was it something I did wrong? Who would take care of me now? I was terrified that I would lose my Grandma too and be left all alone.

I was angry a lot of the time, and so, so sad. I didn’t understand why the world could be so unfair, so cruel as to take my mom away from me. There were so many things I never got to ask her, so much I still wanted to learn about her. I’ll always wonder if she would be proud of me and the person I’m becoming. Not having those answers, not having that closure, is a pain that never really goes away.

Grief Has No Expiration Date

As I’ve grown up, I’ve realized that losing my mom will always be a part of me. Her absence is felt in everything – when I graduated from middle school, when I had my first crush when I think about my future wedding or having kids of my own someday. She should be here for all of it, and the fact that she isn’t reopens that wound again and again.

Grief isn’t something you just “get over.” It’s a lifelong process, and some days are easier than others. There have been times when I’ve dealt with my pain in unhealthy ways when I’ve struggled to let people get close to me because I’m afraid of losing them too. Losing a parent so young fundamentally changes you.

Holding On to Love in the Face of Loss

I’m incredibly lucky to have a wonderful family, Grandmother, and extended family who have supported me through everything. They’ve always been open and honest with me about my mom’s death, even when the conversations are hard. We talk about her often, sharing happy memories and imagining what she would think about the things happening in our lives.

We’ve found special ways to honor her memory too, like volunteering for her favorite charity on her birthday and displaying her photos prominently in our home. Those rituals and reminders help keep her close, even though she can’t be with us physically.

Therapy has also been a game-changer for me – having a safe space to work through all the complicated emotions of grief has been so important. I’ve learned that it’s okay to still be sad sometimes, that I’m not alone in this experience, and that I’m stronger than I ever knew.

Most of all, I’ve learned that a parent’s love never dies. Everything my mom taught me, all the love she gave me in our short time together – that’s still with me every single day. Her love is woven into my very being, and no amount of time or distance can ever take that away.

I’ll always wish my mom was here with me. I’ll always wonder “what if?”. There will always be a piece of my heart that aches for her. But I know that even though she’s not here to hold my hand, she’s still guiding me, loving me, and cheering me on every step of the way. And that knowledge gives me the strength to keep going, to lead a beautiful life – for her, and for me.

What I Want You to Know

• Losing a parent as a kid is a pain like no other. It reshapes your entire world.
• The questions, the anger, the sadness – they’re all normal parts of grieving. It’s okay to not be okay.
• Grief is a lifelong journey. Don’t let anyone tell you to “move on” before you’re ready.
• Honesty, openness, and finding ways to remember your parent are so important.
• You will always carry your parent’s love with you. That’s a bond that can never be broken.

The Roller Coaster of Grief

Grief is a funny thing. Just when you think you’re starting to feel better, starting to adjust to your new normal, it can hit you like a ton of bricks all over again. Birthdays, holidays, anniversaries of the death – those are always tough. But sometimes, it’s the little everyday things that catch you off guard.

I remember about a year after my mom died, I got a great score on a math test. I was so excited, I ran all the way home to tell her… and then it hit me. She wasn’t there. She would never be there again. It was like losing her all over again in that moment.

That’s the thing about grief – it’s not a straight line. It’s more like a roller coaster, with ups and downs, twists and turns. And just like a roller coaster, it can be scary and overwhelming at times, but it’s also a ride you can’t get off until it’s over.

Growing Around Grief

One of the most helpful things I’ve learned is the concept of “growing around grief.” It’s the idea that grief doesn’t necessarily shrink over time, but we can grow and expand our lives around it.

At first, the grief was all-consuming. It was hard to imagine happiness or normalcy again. But slowly, with the support of my family, friends, and therapist, I started to build my life back up. I found new hobbies, made new friends, and discovered new parts of myself. The grief was still there, but it wasn’t the only thing in my life anymore.

It’s like if you plant a tree in the middle of a garden. At first, that tree is going to take up a lot of space. But as the garden grows, as you add more plants and flowers, the tree becomes just one part of a beautiful whole. It’s still there, and it’s still important, but it’s not the only thing you see anymore.

That’s how I try to think about my grief now. My mom’s death, and my love for her, are a permanent part of me. But they’re not the only parts. I’m also a student, a friend, a sister, an artist, an athlete. I contain multitudes, as they say.

A Love That Lasts Forever

I wish I could say it gets easier with time, but the truth is, I will always miss my mom. I will always wish she was here. But I’ve also learned that love is stronger than death.

I carry my mom with me in everything I do. When I face a tough decision, I think about what she would do. When I accomplish something great, I know she’s cheering me on from wherever she is. Her love, her lessons, her spirit – they live on in me.

Losing a parent is a club I never wanted to join, but it’s also taught me so much about resilience, compassion, about the power of love family, and community. It’s shown me that even in the darkest of times, there is always hope, always light to be found.

To anyone else out there navigating this journey, I want you to know that you’re not alone. Your grief is valid, your love is eternal, and your strength is immeasurable. You will always be your parent’s child, and they will always be your guiding star.

Keep going, keep growing, keep loving. That’s the best way we can honor the ones we’ve lost.

A Few More Thoughts

• Grief can be unpredictable, and that’s okay. Feel your feelings as they come.
• You aren’t betraying your parent by living your life and finding joy again. That’s all they ever wanted for you.
• Your parent’s love lives on in you. You are their legacy.
• You are so much stronger than you know. Trust yourself, and trust the journey.
• It’s okay to still need your parent, to still talk to them, to still love them just as much as ever. That love doesn’t end.

Thank you for letting me share my story. Writing this hasn’t been easy, but it’s been healing in its own way. If my words can bring comfort or understanding to even one person, then it’s all been worth it.

To my beautiful mother – thank you, for everything. I miss you, I love you, and I’ll see you again someday. Until then, I’ll be here, living a life that would make you proud.