*TRIGGER WARNING: This episode contains detailed descriptions of terminal disease, death, and grief.* Today is the 8 month anniversary of my mom's death. She was diagnosed with triple-negative breast cancer, the most aggressive form of breast cancer, on December 21, 2020. By the time we had caught it, it had already spread to her bones and brain. We stayed as optimistic as we could, we prayed endlessly. After a short, 4 and a half month battle, she died on May 12, 2021 at 10:26pm. She was 63 years old. My brothers and I took care of her up until the day she died. It was the hardest thing we ever had to do. The physical part of it–– administering 15 med's daily, bathing and feeding her, changing her, getting her in and out of bed–– was difficult on its own. But the emotional part of it–– seeing her get weaker and weaker, hearing her voice get quieter and quieter, watching her cry in pain and frustration, and hearing her tearfully apologize again and again for putting us through this–– was nothing short of a nightmare. It is hard to imagine a day where the last year of our lives, won't feel like the deepest wound that will never heal. No one knows what the future will hold–– but right now, in this very moment, a future where we don't cry every single day, doesn't seem possible. I have spoken about my mother's diagnosis, treatment, and death to my friend's and followers many times before–– but I haven't articulated it, haven't fully gone into detail like I do in this episode, with anyone other than my family, and my closest best friend since I was 15. While I am always transparent about how this has felt, while I never hold back from talking about the process of going from caretaker to grieving daughter, this episode brought me to the most vulnerable place I have ever been. But despite the fact that I spoke through tears, despite the fact that the immense weight and pain of this horrific, catastrophic tragedy can never be expressed in a hour-long episode, I gave this my all: in the purest, rawest form. And that is something that I, that I know my mom, is proud of. I love you mommy. Always and forever.