My Mother Has Gone Home
For the woman who is learning to grieve with hope.
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Dear friend,
On October 19, 2026, at 2:29 in the afternoon, my precious mother went home to be with the Lord.
My heart is grieving, but even in this sorrow, I have hope. My mother is no longer in pain. She is no longer suffering in a body that was breaking down. The daily struggle is over. She is with the Lord, reunited with my grandmother and her sister. And more than anything, she is with Jesus.
That is where my hope rests.
Scripture speaks of being absent from the body and present with the Lord. Those words mean something deeper to me now. The body I watched grow weaker no longer holds her. This fallen world, with all its pain and sorrow, no longer weighs on her. She is in the presence of the Savior.
We are confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord.
2 Corinthians 5:8
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I do not know how I would walk through this without the promises of God. I will miss her voice, her presence, and the ordinary moments we shared. But even through my tears, the Lord is giving me a peace that passes all understanding. I can grieve and still trust Him. I can miss my mother deeply and still be thankful that her suffering has ended.
It was so hard to see her hurting every day. As her daughter, I wanted to make it better. I wanted to give her comfort, protect her, and have more time.
And as I look back, I am deeply grateful for the time God gave us.
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A year and ten months ago, I brought my mother from Tennessee to California to live with me. I cannot know exactly how things would have unfolded had she stayed, but I believe bringing her here gave us precious time we might not otherwise have had.
And we lived in that time.
We walked in the park. We shopped. We went to church. She spent time with her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. We made memories in places and moments she might never have experienced had she not come here.
Now, those ordinary days feel like extraordinary gifts.
The hardest days of her illness are still fresh in my mind, but they are only part of our story. There were walks, conversations, family visits, and days when we simply got to be together. Before I was caring for her through this final season, and throughout it all, I was her daughter. I am so thankful I got to have my mom close.
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Lord, thank You for that time. Thank You for every memory. Thank You for allowing me to love and care for her here. And thank You that when my care could go no further, she was still held in Yours.
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To everyone who prayed for my mother and for our family, thank you. Your prayers, kindness, and love have helped carry me through a season that has been difficult to put into words.
In the days ahead, I will be learning how to live with her absence. I am grateful I do not have to walk through that alone.
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My mother is with Jesus. Her pain has ended. And because of Him, I have the hope of seeing her again.
For today, that promise is where I rest.
Walking with you,
Kimberly D. Reid
