Crystal Aura Gaze

On Monday evening, was the visitation for Mom, which was held in our hometown in which my parents raised my brother, sister, and me. And on Tuesday, we had the funeral at our church. We saw many, many friends and family who came to give their love, support, and hugs. I can see how many lives that my mom truly touched. It’s all very unreal.

I wrote in my last post about all of the struggles that I suffered through in these past few years, along with what my family has been going through. And now, it’s not that the struggling has ended, but we’re going through a new period of grief that will be filled with some similar and some different emotions.

I’m going to share what I spoke at the funeral. For this, instead of focusing on the suffering of this disease, I wanted to draw focus on the life that she lived and how that directly impacted me in the most positive way. I wanted to share my perception of her from childhood, through teenage years, into my early adulthood while she was vibrant and well. Ultimately, this is the version of Mom that will stick with me.

I wanted to show that she was the best. Her life was not a waste – and her exit was also not a waste because it was lived with so much purpose. And from my perspective, so much of her purpose was setting me up for the best version of myself that I can be.

My mom was always full of love. She had so much love to give. When I was a little girl, she would tell me over and over how much she loved me. One day, she asked, “Laura, do I tell you I love you too much?” I looked at her and said, “Yes.” She burst into laughter—and then kept saying it again and again.

My mom always kissed me on the cheek—and I’d always wipe it off. One night, while I was fast asleep, she came in to check on me and kissed my cheek. Even in my sleep, I wiped it off. She was so amused by that. She used to sing me a song called I’m Gonna Make You Love Me. She’d sing, “I’m gonna get you, I’m gonna get you. Look out, Laura, I’m gonna get you, I’m gonna make you love me.”

Mom loved to sing and dance. Every morning, she’d wake us up for school with a song and a dance. Life, to her, was one big musical. She could turn even the most ordinary moment into a performance.

She had one of the loudest laughs in the room. She roared. But just as she taught me to laugh, she also taught me to cry. In a world that often teaches us to suppress our feelings, my mom showed me the beauty in embracing them all. She taught me the value of both laughter and tears.

When I was a teenager, I went through some very difficult times. My mom was always there to comfort me. I begged her to let me be homeschooled, so that way I could just be with her all day, instead of being out in the world. I’d come home to find her folding laundry and watching Judge Judy. She’d ask me, “Was it a bad day—or a terrible day?”

I could confide in her about anything. She was my emotional security blanket. Whenever I was hurting, she had this incredible way of making things better. I don’t know how she did it—she always said the right thing. Her hugs felt like heaven. Her smile was pure comfort.

When I was going through one of the hardest times in my life, my mom had an idea. She knew how much I loved to write, so she said, “Take your pain and turn it into a story. Write a novel.” That’s how she taught me to turn pain into art. She taught me how to be an alchemist. And from then on, whenever I was hurting or felt betrayed, I found a way to make something beautiful out of it.

I used to be in disbelief when my mom told me she was shy and quiet as a kid. I couldn’t picture it—she always seemed so confident and vibrant to me. But now, I’m starting to understand, as I follow in her footsteps.

When I was a little girl, I didn’t know how to accept my mother’s love. It was so grand, so powerful—I didn’t know how to accept anyone’s love at all. I was quiet, shy, and afraid of the world. But being raised by a woman who lived with her heart wide open has transformed me. I truly believe it was her soul’s mission to teach me how to open mine.

Mom talked to strangers like they were old friends. Her warmth could melt the coldest person. She was the most empathetic person I’ve ever known. She had a magical ability to make everyone feel like they belonged.

I strive to live my life the way she did. These days, I’m quick to tell people I love them. I don’t hold grudges like I used to. I believe that forgiveness is the only real answer to conflict. And I have one person to thank for that: my best friend… my therapist… my dance partner… my mother.