It occurred to me a few days ago that while I’ve mentioned on social media what’s been going on with our family, I haven’t written a blog post about it. And I know that I don’t have to write a blog post about it – there certainly aren’t any rules about this sort of thing – but it feels strange not to mention it on the blog since, for over ten years now, this is where I’ve documented such a big chunk of our family life.


On Monday, June 27th, after several days in ICU, my sweet mama passed away and met Jesus face-to-face. We rejoice that she is whole and free.

And I said this on Facebook last week, but I think it’s worth saying again: Mama was a true Southern lady, a devoted wife, an incomparable mother and grandmother, and a loyal friend. Her relationship with the Lord was deep and rich and real. She was one of a kind and loved by many.

I’m so grateful that she was ours.


There’s so much about the last week and a half that I’m not ready to write about yet. There’s so much that I’m still processing. There’s also the ever-increasing realization that even though I am so relieved that Mama isn’t suffering – even though I find great comfort and peace from knowing that she’s with Jesus – there’s a grieving process out in front of me, and I have to move through it.

And since we’re talking about it, I’ll tell you the number one thing I’ve learned about that process so far: grief is weird.

Seriously. It’s the craziest thing. One minute I’m fine, I’m cooking supper, I’m laughing at something somebody said, and the next minute I’m in tears because there’s a mama talking to her daughter on an HGTV show, and there’s something about the inflection of her voice that reminds me of my own mama.

So as far as recounting everything that happened in the hospital, as far as trying to put some big shiny perspective on this particular encounter with loss, I’m nowhere near ready.

But here’s what I can tell you without a second’s hesitation: in the middle of our family’s heartbreak, the Lord has been so gracious.

In the middle of our family’s heartache, the body of Christ has loved us and comforted us and rallied around us and prayed for us and shown up for us.

And the personal nature of all that love and care – from the Lord and from His people – it’s been a game-changer, y’all. It has ministered to our family in ways that are difficult for me to describe. Because seeing how people reached out to Daddy – watching how folks have cared for him and for us – it has been such a testimony to the power of community and investing in other people and putting down some relational roots. I believed it before, of course. I’ve even written about it a little bit.


I will talk about it forever, I think.

Consider yourselves warned.


Here’s what I keep thinking about.

About a month ago Alex and I went to Mama and Daddy’s house for an extra-long weekend. The new book came out on a Tuesday, I drove to Mississippi on Wednesday, and on Thursday I had a book-signing at a store in my hometown. Alex and I got to the book signing a little early, and Sister – who was also in town – brought Mama about a half hour later. Mama was having a hard day with her words (her memory was still so strong, but dementia gave her fits with language and processing), and for most of the afternoon, she just smiled and squeezed people’s hands. At one point she looked at Sister and said, oh-so-slowly, “I wish I could talk.” There were several good conversations going on at the same time, and Mama was frustrated that she couldn’t jump in.

But 48 hours later, Mama had a much better day. She rode with Sister and me to a family reunion in south Mississippi, and even though her speech was still slow, she wasn’t having to fight as much with her words. She was thrilled to be at the reunion, delighted to see different people from Daddy’s side of the family, glad to be able to talk a little bit with some folks she had known for a long time.


Mama was all about the desserts that day – her sweet tooth was fired up and ready for the homemade cobblers and pies – and after Mama finished her lunch, Sister fixed her a “sampler platter” of sweet treats. It tickled Mama to no end.

After the reunion ended, Sister took us on a little road trip to the community where Mama grew up. Our first stop was the church that Mama attended her whole life, and as we pulled into the parking lot, Mama pointed and very slowly said, “That’s where your daddy and I married.”

We knew that, of course. But since words hadn’t come easy for Mama over the last couple of years, Sister and I were both struck by the fact that out of all the life Mama had lived in that little Methodist church, she made sure to tell us about marrying Daddy. For her, that was the highlight.

As we pulled out of the church parking lot, Mama did her best to narrate our drive down Highway 18 – just like she’d done when Alex and I were with her on the same road a few years before. This time, however, I grabbed my phone and started recording. I have no idea why; as a general rule I am a picture taker, not a video maker, and prior to that Saturday I think I’d probably videoed Mama approximately zero times.

But that day, I did. And I am so thankful.

We kept driving down the highway until we reached the cemetery. Mama wanted to see her parents’ graves, and since the cemetery soil was a little rocky, she couldn’t use her walker. So Sister got on one side of Mama, and I got on the other, and we walked her up a small hill until we reached the spot where Mamaw and Papaw Davis are buried. We stood there for several minutes until a big, dark cloud rolled in.

IMG_6296 (1)

And then we giddy-upped (as best we could) back to the car.

As it turned out, though, the rain held off, so Sister drove down to Mamaw and Papaw Davis’ old farm (if you’ve read the new book, you know that land is also known as THE PLACE WHERE MY SINK LIVES). Sister climbed the fence and did a little exploring. Thanks to my broken foot, though, fence-climbing was off limits, so I stayed in the car with Mama. Sister walked around for a few minutes, took a whole bunch of pictures, then hopped back over the fence and jumped in the car just as the rain started to fall. She showed Mama pictures of the old smokehouse, the cattle guard, and the chicken house, and after she put up her phone and started to drive again, she asked Mama if she’d like to see the back part of the land.

“YES,” Mama answered.

Within seconds Sister turned down a little side road that runs around the perimeter of the property, and Mama started to talk again. She pointed out the place where her childhood home used to stand – before Papaw built “the new house” – and she reminisced about life on the farm. When we got to a point where we could see the ponds Papaw used to fish, Sister stopped the car.

IMG_6319 (1)

Eventually we looped back to the highway, and we headed home.

It was the last trip we took together.

And it was such a great day.


So now we’re back in Birmingham.

A couple of hours ago I picked up Alex from his first day of football workouts, and as we drove home, he told me all about the fun and the drills and the running and the friends. We were about to turn in our neighborhood when he changed the subject.

“Mama? When was the last time you talked to her?”

I knew that he was talking about Mama.

“It was just a few days before she went in the hospital,” I answered. “I called to check on her and Papa, and I didn’t know if she’d want to talk on the phone or not. But she did. And you know what I’ll remember the most about talking to her that day?”


“We were about to hang up when I told her that I loved her. And even though words were a struggle for her, she said, ‘Love. You. Too.’ That was the last thing she ever said to me.”

Alex and I were quiet the rest of the way to the house.

We miss her so much.

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  1. Marjie says:

    What a sweet final send off. Certainly a treasure from your mama and the Lord!

  2. Melanie says:

    Beautiful story. I am so glad things worked out as they did in that y’all were able to visit the homeplace.
    I lost my daddy when I was only 22. A predominant thought/memory/lesson I have never forgotten was that even through the mourning and grief, I never felt more loved and taken care of by God–a strange juxtaposition.

  3. Patty H. says:

    Dear Sophie,
    It doesn’t matter how old you are or how long ago it happened, we always miss our mommas! I am sorry for your loss and am remembering you in my prayers. I hope that soon the grief is soothed by all of your wonderful memories. Take care.

  4. Amy Adamo says:

    Precious. Praying for you as you walk through your grief. May time and memories add to the comfort you already have from knowing she’s healed and whole, and in the presence of Jesus.

    Love from Italy…

  5. Thank you for sharing, Sophie! I love reading your words. My own precious mother died almost 4 years ago and I can tell you that you are spot-on about grief. It is such a weird process and extremely unpredictable. The only way out is through it. It will change your relationship with the Lord forever, in a good way. I rejoice that your sweet mama is at home with the Lord and at peace for all eternity! I just finished reading your new book and loved learning more about her! The bond you shared will never be unbroken! Love and hugs from Texas.

  6. Beth C. says:

    So beautiful Sophie, every single word! Thank you for sharing. I am continuing to pray for all of you.

  7. I can’t even find the words, you touched me.

  8. Oh tears … what a treasure. I’m so glad you have that last day and those last words on top of a lifetime of love, devotion, and support. Thankful for the Hope we have in Jesus that you will see her again. I will be praying for you all as you continue through this time of grief.

  9. Katie C. says:

    Oh Sophie, you are so right-grief is weird. It is also unpredictable, frustrating, and different for every individual. So at no point should you let anyone make you think you are doing it wrong, because there is no wrong.

    When my dad died suddenly 5 years ago, I remember having a lyric from a worship song stuck in my head on repeat for the longest time. “When we see You, we find strength to face the day.” I can say with confidence that (as you know) God will give you the strength for each day that He has set in front of you. The words of Psalm 34:18 are truer than true, and my prayer for you has been that you would feel that comfort in a way you never have before.

    This past week, I’ve been thinking about what a gift it is that God’s timing allowed you to write a book that will keep your mama’s legacy alive, not just in the hearts of those who knew her, but for every single person who ever has or ever will read your words. Talk about a legacy.

    Love to you and your family.

  10. Holly F says:

    So so sorry about your mama. Prayers for you and your family. Was the timing such that you also missed Hamilton?

  11. Mitzi Siracusa says:

    Those last words will bless you for years to come.

  12. Jennifer S says:

    Sending much love to you and yours. God bless.

  13. Melissa says:

    I am crying. Sophie, you and your words touch my heart so dearly. My Mama went to Heaven in 2013 and I miss her dearly. I still go to pick up the phone to call her. My Daddy went to Heaven on Easter Sunday in 1998. Daddy and our son were extremely close, best buddies. Our son was 14 when Daddy went to Heaven. We still say, “Daddy would love that garden.” and “Mama would love those flowers.” My two sisters and I were truly blessed with wonderful parents. I know you are blessed, too. Thank you for sharing your Mama with us. Love and hugs to you.

  14. I’m in tears reading this. My own mama died when I was 12 and I just lost my dad 8 months ago. Grief is indeed weird and it’s your own. There’s no right or wrong way to do it so don’t let anybody tell you that you should be feeling something different than you are. We do rest in the promise that they are in heaven, but oh how much it hurts that we are without them here. Be gentle with yourself and allow the tears to fall as they need to. My prayers continue to be with you.

  15. What a treasure to have these last, vivid memories of your Mother. I am so sorry for the grief and sadness you have to endure even though she has gained her reward. It’s still just so hard but thank you for writing about it because I know it’s helped someone else.

  16. robbyn says:

    God bless and keep you and yours in His arms.

  17. Cheryl says:

    Oh Sophie! Bless your heart. I’m so sorry for your loss but that you so much for sharing your sweet family with us. What an absolutely lovely legacy.
    And, I’d help you drag that sink out.

  18. How precious that y’all’s last words were ” I love you.” I was in the middle of your new book when I heard about your mother passing, so the last section of it was especially sweet. Prayers for you and yours. ❤️

  19. This is beautiful and so moving. Your mom sounds like the example of a life well-lived. Prayers to you and your family.

  20. Bobbi Greene says:

    Brought tears to my eyes because it reminded me of when I would visit my mom and she always loved to reminisce about her growing up years and see the old places. It speaks to home and beloved memories. You’ve still got much grief to process. So glad you’ll see her again in Heaven. Maybe I’ll meet up with y’all there.

  21. I had a very similar experience with my grandma a few years back. I went on a road trip with my mom and aunt to visit my grandma. I hadn’t seen her in a couple of years, and I knew that this visit might be the last time. One of the days we were there, Grandma wanted to go on a drive to the town where she and Granddad had lived for over 50 years. We drove by all the familiar places–her church, two of the homes they had lived in, down Main Street, etc. When she had had her fill, she told us she was ready to go back to the care center. That was the last time she left the care center. One week later she left this world to meet Jesus. How I treasure the memories made with her on that trip!

  22. Kelly O says:

    Oh honey.

    I am so sorry about your precious Mama, but grateful that the last thing you said to each other was “I love you.” Just know you are prayed for, and loved on, by people all over the world, who have never met you, but feel like you’re an old friend.

  23. How glorious those were her last words to you. You will be so very thankful to have her voice on a recording; so precious. Praying for you as you walk through this journey.

  24. I’ve been praying for you since I heard she was in the hospital. I have walked this road myself and the one thing I can promise you is that the Lord gives the grace and strength when we need it! So many times I’ve wished I could get an extra dose and store it up for when the hard times come. It doesn’t work that way, but He has always been faithful to walk me through when I need it. I remember planning funerals and talking to people and thinking there is no way I’m doing this in my own strength. Our God is always faithful! Love and prayers!

  25. What a lady, in every sense of the word. You reflect her in so many lovely ways, and her legacy lives on. Praying for you as you begin to process this and grieve this.

  26. LuAnn Fischer says:

    Sohpie…I.can’t.even. My Dad had dementia too. He went home to be with Jesus in April of this year just days before his 91st birthday. He was a fighter ( a WWII exPOW) who took great care of his family. I am a straggler ( 15 years younger than my next older brother.) Dad and I were close. We took care of my Mom together. She was diagnosed with MS when I was 1. He was my rock, my anchor. I married a man who is so like my Dad in many ways. The last conversation we had was just a few days before he passed. I was holding his hand, and I said “Daddy, you know I’m gonna be all right… ” He looked at me and nodded his head and said “‘course you are”. And I said ” you don’t have to fight anymore if you don’t want to.” He again nodded his head and said “that’s right” he laid his head back on his pillow, went to sleep and to the best of my knowledge didn’t wake up or speak again. My husband & I were with him, I was holding his hand , singing a hymn ” When we all get to heaven” when he passed away.
    I have days when I think yep – I am doing okay ( as in I’ve got this grief thing licked) and in the very next breathe something will happen that will send me into torrential tears. Praying for you and your family as you find your “new normal”. (((hugs)))

  27. Lauren says:

    Oh, tears are welling up as I read this at work. Missing those that have gone before us is so very hard at times. I lost my 12 year old sister when I was 14. My heart still hurts and I miss her dearly, nearly 19 years later. You and your family are in my prayers. Your mama was a special lady. :)

  28. praying for you . . .and crying as I read your post!!

  29. Lynn Marie says:

    Awwww…..we are all greiving with you! What do people do in times like these when they don’t have church family and the comfort of the savior?!!! Praying for you and your family.

  30. Beverly says:

    I just lost my mom on May 31st, and I feel your pain and am so sorry for your loss. There is nothing like a mother—I’m trying to find my way through the same maze of-sorrow, missing my encouraging, smiling, strong Christian mom. Even though she had dementia also, she gave everyone she met a sweet sweet smile. I bet your mom was the same way.

  31. Yolanda McLean says:

    No words, none.

  32. Teresa says:

    Sweet Sophie! My heart goes out to you and your family. My daddy passed away on Christmas Eve 2014 and I totally get what you say about grief. 18 months later I can still have that “moment” where I’m right back where I started from. Hold tight to your family friends and faith and know that a lady in Texas is lifting you in prayer. xoxo

  33. So very touching. And now I’m crying. At work. Yay.

    I keep voicemails from both my parents. Have for years – so much in fact that my voicemail is currently 98% full just with old messages from them. I just can’t delete them. I know one day, I’ll want to hear my dad say, “Hey, Doll” one more time.

    Our prayers continue for y’all!

  34. Oh sweet Sophie. This made me tear up so much. I already knew what was going on thanks to social media but you just get to say so much more on the blog.Absolutely beautiful.

    This story totally reminds me of my grandparents. After my Dad’s Dad passed away (he was the last of my grandparents), just my Dad and I drove to their old house and land (pretty close to where you grew up). I was able to just listen to my Dad talk about his childhood and what it was like to live in a house with 1 bathroom and 10 kids! Oh how I wish we had smart phones back then (yes, this was college, before we all had cell phones for the most part, man I;m dating myself). I have started saving all of my voice mails from my parents. You just never know when you aren’t going to be able to hear their voices anymore.

  35. Kathryn says:

    I’m so sorry for your loss. There is no one in the world like your very own mother. Thank you for sharing this post—a beautiful tribute.

  36. Amanda says:

    I’m so sorry for your loss. Your last memories with her are so beautiful. May her passing lead others to Jesus and may her memory bring you joy in coming days!

  37. love you, sweet Sophie.

  38. Phyllis says:

    Oh Sophie. As always, your words perfectly capture your heart and also minister to mine. What a blessing to have those last beautiful memories, photos and video with her. Thank you for “sharing” your sweet mama with us all these years. Even though I’d never met her, I thought so highly of her because of how you described her. I am so sorry. You and your family will remain in my prayers. xoxo

  39. LeeAnn Robinson says:

    Sophie, Thank you so much for sharing your heart and your Mama with us. I have thought so much about you in recent days and prayed for comfort for you and your family. “Grief is weird.” No truer words have been spoken. I’m so thankful you know Jesus who understands. Love to you all the way from Virginia.

  40. Laura Wentz says:

    Sophie, I’m so sorry for the loss of your sweet Mama. You and your family are in my prayers. What a wonderful post about her though. You have so many good memories. I can’t imagine how you wrote this without breaking down although sharing does seem to help with grief.

  41. lots of prayers coming to you, your family, and your daddy.

  42. Beautiful words Sophie. Prayers of comfort for you all.

  43. This is precious, and priceless, Sophie. Thank you for sharing. My Dad died 16 years ago, and still, grief remains weird. Than you for sharing with us. I have been praying for you and your sweet family.

  44. Janice says:

    Praying for all of you, Sophie. Your books have allowed us to get to know you and your family in a way that makes all of us grieve your loss. Wish I could give you a great big hug.

  45. Jeanie says:

    I’m so sorry, Sophie. It’s definitely a sad day when we lose our mamas. Yours was very lucky to have you for a daughter. You even look like her. God Bless.

  46. Hugs to you, dear Sophie. My mama went to be with Jesus 20 years ago and not a day has passed since then that she has not been in my thoughts in some way – a memory, a recipe, something coming out of my mouth! Time does heal the hurt and you will find as the years pass, smiles come more than tears. But I don’t think you ever “get over” missing your mama. I honestly don’t know how people who don’t know the Lord and have a family of faith to come around them get through it. So glad you and your family have that! Love the new book, too – I’m practically forcing every woman I know to read it!

  47. Ginger says:

    I can picture this all so clearly, Soph. I have many great memories of her waiting on you at Mary Alpha, in the kitchen while we watched Morten Anderson kick for the Saints, flittering around the house while we played the piano or talked about boys and the one infamous incident when your hair was ruined night before Installation and your picture was to be in the paper as “Best Pledge”. She was quite a lady for sure.

  48. Angela says:

    I have tears in my eyes reading this. Such a beautiful narration of your last few times with your mama. I just wanted to tell you that this Catholic California girl loves you and your writing, and I’ve been praying for you and your family. Both my Mama and Daddy’s families are from the south, and you speak such sweetness to my soul with your blog, books, and of course the beloved podcast:) Sending love to you!

  49. Natalie says:

    Oh Sophie. Grief is a very weird thing. It ebbs and flows and just when you think you’ve got it altogether, you don’t. Praying for y’all as you walk this tricky path of grief but praising God that your precious Mama is with her Savior. And I am so thankful you videoed her that day. I would give anything for a video of any of the memories I have of my daddy… Or for assurance that I’ll see him again one day.

  50. Allison Beasley says:

    Sophie – been praying for you. Grief IS a weird thing and nobody can tell you how to do grief. It’s individualistic in my experience. Nothing will be the same but my how it can nurture your soul.

  51. This brought me to tears. And made me want to tell my mom that I love her.

  52. I’m reading your book and enjoying the conversations God has allowed me to have with other women about it. Your writing has always blessed me in a number of ways. I’m so sorry for your loss and I so appreciate your words today.

  53. Pamela says:

    So many beautiful thoughts, thank you for sharing. The one thing that stands out to me in your writing are your words “I am so grateful she was ours”. To me these few words are so profound and show the depth of the love your family has, not just for your sweet mama but for each other as well. I am always touched by your writing Sophie, you are truly a gift
    yourself. Thank you for being so honest and sharing part of your life here where we can experience your kind heart.

  54. Sharon Hall says:

    I just lost my Mother in May. She had cancer that made her have dementia. One time she grabbed me and held me tight and told me repeatedly, “You are loved, you are special, just know how special you are. ” At the time it really embarrassed me, because I’m not used to public displays like that, but now I know that she knew she was going Home and just wanted to tell me. Daddy died 4 years ago, and I still just start crying out of the blue. There is no closure, and i don’t want there to be. It gets easier to bear, but it doesn’t close down like a chapter in a book. Blessings to you

  55. Mary Beth Ferrara says:

    Writing this while tears flow….Sophie, I’m so sorry for your loss. Praying that the strong arms of the Lord and the compassion of others surround you as you walk through your grief.

  56. You know how sometimes I say something you’ve written is my favorite? This one is my absolute favorite. Beautiful.

  57. Sophie, I’ve loved reading about your sweet family in your books and I am so sorry about the loss of your mama. This is just perfectly beautiful. Praying the Lord’s comfort and strength for you and yours today.

  58. HUGS Bless your heart….it is a road we all travel at some point.

    My Daddy has been gone 26 years and I still will hear a song or something will happen and I want to know what he thinks. The Lord has guided my heart for many, many years. I hope he is pleased with the way my sister and I have taken care of our Mother, the love of his life.

  59. Oh Sophie, I am so very, very sorry. What a lovely reunion it will be, one sweet day.

  60. I think this is so true, “But here’s what I can tell you without a second’s hesitation: in the middle of our family’s heartbreak, the Lord has been so gracious.” In fact, I think that it’s in heartbreak that we have the eyes and heart to see the Lord around us. But He is always there.

  61. This is so beautiful. Reading about how much you treasure your family and those little moments always makes me think about those little moments I have with different people in my own family and what a treasure they are. Thank you for shining a light on the importance of those sweet little, but oh so important moments we hold in our hearts forever. Y’all are in my prayers.

  62. Mary Ann Stafford says:

    I lost my Mama and Daddy many years ago, but nothing prepared me for the loss of our oldest child a year ago. She died in her sleep. Grief comes in waves. Just about the time you think you’re doing better, a butterfly almost lands on your shoulder, or you find a penny that wasn’t there a minute ago. My heart goes out to you and yours. God Bless!

  63. I’m so very sorry about the loss of your Mama. It’s a great loss, I know. It’s a great loss to most any family who experiences it, because Mamas are just EVERYTHING to a family. My Mom moved to “Our Father’s House” 18 years ago. I think of her almost every day. I miss her so. She would’ve turned 77 years old last week. I miss her not being here for all the things I never knew were going to happen…but I am thankful she is with Jesus, and no longer suffering or in pain. Grief is a strange thing. You just go on and process things on your own time-table. Everyone is different. Thank you so much for sharing a little bit of your Mama with all of us. What a legacy she left for your family.

  64. Tears are flowing right now for you, and for myself. I lost my daddy five years ago this month, and that weird, unpredictable grief you mentioned is still there. Any little thing can set it off. There are a few songs I still can’t listen to without going straight to the ugly cry. After he passed, a friend pointed out to me that I wouldn’t feel the pain of his loss if I hadn’t had such a good relationship with him, so I am thankful for the pain, and honestly, I don’t want it to ever go away completely.

    I am so glad you got that last conversation with your mama. My last visit with Daddy, as I was leaving south Georgia to head back to Florida, he met me in his friends tomato field (nothing is better than produce grown by people you’ve known your whole life), and after he and I had picked all the tomatoes I needed, I told him to go hug my four kids who were waiting in the air conditioned car. He said he was too sweaty, and I told him they wouldn’t care, so he hugged them all, then he hugged me, and we said our “I love you”s. There is not one moment in my life that I am more grateful for than that one. (I just realized that was exactly five years ago today!)

    My prayers are with you and your family.

  65. Beautiful

  66. Sophie, this moved me to tears. So beautiful! Thank you for sharing your heart. We all felt like we knew your mama and loved her. I am so thankful you had such a meaningful last visit and last conversation with your sweet Mama! So thankful also for the timing in that she got to see your book released, and also you have time over summer break to begin your journey through grief. I will be praying for you and your family. You are so loved by so many.

  67. Sophie, I lost my dad on April 12. You are SO right about SO MANY things in this post. There are things that happened at the hospital just before he died that I don’t talk about with anyone – and yet for the longest time they just played over and over in my head. One minute I’m okay, and the next I’ve been ambushed by some memory that came out of nowhere. God showed up BIG for us too. He thought of everything – and then some. I am thankful for His faithfulness. For some unknown-to-me reason I had three voicemails from my dad saved on my cell phone. Sometimes, when I want to hear him tell me that he is “fine,” I will listen to them. It comforts me and makes me sad at the same time. Praying for you and for your family.

  68. Oh it’s so hard and so good. Sweet sweet stories and memories you have. I’m so glad you all have the comfort of Jesus with you and the sure knowledge of your mama with him.

  69. MemeGRL says:

    My heart is with you in your grief. You were such blessings to each other. Praying with and for her and your family.

  70. Christine B says:

    What a beautiful tribute. Hugs and prayers to you and your family.

  71. Sweet goodbyes. I still miss my mother each and everyday. When I close my eyes I can see your family sitting on the pew in front of our family on Sunday mornings. Praying for you and your loss. ❤️ Adele

  72. Susan LaRoux says:

    Sophie, I enjoy reading about your family because I hear so much of my Tennessee childhood in your stories. I’ve recommended your books to many. I’m so sorry to hear about your Mama and wish you God’s grace as you travel the road of grief. I’m so happy to hear the love of Christ’s people surrounded y’all – another reminder of the beauty of small towns. I’ve felt it in the big city of Dallas but there’s something about the fabric of a small southern town that wraps around you in the hard times. ❤️ Susan

  73. Sophie, I am so sorry for your loss. I will be praying for you and your family. I just finished reading your last book and the story about your Mom was so sweet. I am sure that it was a hard place to be in, but you wrote it so tenderly and I could tell that there was so much love there.

  74. Marian Baldock says:

    Beautiful tribute, what a legacy of love she left all of you. My dad passed nearly twenty-one years ago and it was like that for me for a long time, like an unexpected wave would just crash over me. I don’t know how long it took but at some point, it stopped. I could remember him with a smile and talk about him without feeling the overwhelming loss, still missing him very much, of course. Because of the way you share your gift, I feel like you are a very good friend. Praying for you and yours.

  75. Kristin says:

    My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family during this difficult time. I know that God will surround you all and bring you peace needed for the grieving and healing.

  76. Lisa-pie says:

    I am so sorry for your loss, Sophie. My prayers are with you.

  77. Kim Nations says:

    Such a beautiful story. So sorry for your loss, but so glad you know she is with the Lord and talking up a storm. Loved your new book. :)

  78. Molly P. says:

    That was such a wonderful story. Eventually, you’ll get through the grief stage, and the happy memories and stories will begin to make you smile. Sometimes I say “Heck!” like my grandmother used to when she couldn’t get something quiet right and it brings the most joy to me. That’s just one small thing, but I think of her every time it comes out of my mouth!
    I’ve been thinking about you and your family a lot over the last few days. Your writing, both on the blog and in your books, has made me feel like I know y’all. My heart goes out to you and yours!

  79. Dana Laviano says:

    Dear Sophie,
    I am sorry for your loss and your family’s loss. This is such a beautiful send off and thank you for sharing your Mama with us. I will keep her and all of you in my prayers.
    God bless,

  80. Kelley says:

    Such a most difficult thing. What lovely words, from your Mama, to carry on your heart. God be with you.

  81. Sophie, I have tears in my eyes. Thank you for sharing this with us. I knew there had to be a story and there will be more to come in time if you choose to share them. Thank you for sharing your mama with us all these years. My dad’s last words to me before he died were also that he loved me. What a gift.

  82. Gal, this is the most precious thing. How sweet is the Lord. How tender to your sweet Mama and you all to let you all see the scope of her life before He took her home to actually see her parents again. He is better than He has to be. This made me cry. Thank you for writing it. I’m still praying for you and yours. Love you my gal!


  83. Oh, Sophie! I am so sorry about your Mama. What sweet memories you have – such a lovely, Godly mother and family.

  84. Oh Sophie. What a beautiful post! So thankful that your mom’s last words to you were Love You too. How precious. You won’t ever forget that. You won’t ever regret that.
    I just finished Giddy Up, Eunice two days ago, with the beautiful chapters about your mom and the farm (and sink). You made me laugh, as always. And you made me appreciate my own mom even more. She is fighting ALS. Time is shorter than we thought it would be. Time is now to honor her.

  85. Brooke says:

    Sending continued thoughts and prayers for you all. What a sweet classy southern lady your Mama was. I am so happy you all had those precious moments together. And nothing better than a good family reunion with cobbler:) ((hugs))

  86. Sharon Smith says:

    Thanks for sharing your grief with us. It does good to talk about it when your ready. It does seem Gods presence is sweeter when you loose a loved one. Grief is weird! Love you Sophie.

  87. So very sorry about your Mama. Losing your mom, no matter how old you are is not easy. Your words on the last visit and last call with her brought tears to my eyes and made me wish I could call my mom one more time. Hugs….!

  88. Uta Zacharias says:

    What a glorious tribute. Although the loss of my mom also leaves me with such a gigantic hole in my heart, I’m not nearly as eloquent with the words in tribute. I’ll just use your words. You speak for all of us daughters. The Lord is so good to give us such incredible mothers. I hope I can be a fraction of the mother to my kids that your mom was to you and my mom was to me. Peace.

  89. I feel you. My dad passed away quite suddenly this spring, quite young, after being diagnosed with cancer a month earlier. It was devastating. I miss him so much too, and I understand what you say about grief – it IS weird. A friend told me, “grief is not linear.” And I think that’s a good way to describe it. I also struggle with trusting God – although I am so happy my Dad is home with the Savior he loved, I don’t know why God chose to take him now. I know in my HEAD that He is Sovereign but it’s harder for my heart… I’ll pray for your family!

  90. JennyJoT says:

    Oh, Sophie, thanks for expressing so gently and beautifully the love and honor and respect you had (and still have) for your sweet mama. I love that Alex asked about her on the way home from football practice. That says SO much. My own little mama has dementia, and sadly, her memories are going as well as her words. Yet she is still my precious mama – even if the day comes when she doesn’t know who I am. I love you, Mama. And I love you, Sophie. Praying for y’all.

  91. Kristin Flanders says:

    I am so very sorry for the loss of your mama! {{HUGS}} to you and prayers being said for the family ~

  92. Mary Lynn says:

    I am so glad you and Sister and this special time with your Mama. Thanks for sharing it with us. Hang on to the sweet memories and continue to lean into your faith. You and all of your family remain in my prayers.

  93. I am so sorry for your loss. Thirteen years ago today my mama went to be with Jesus after a year long battle with cancer. I miss her so much. I am praying for you and your family.

  94. Sophie, I’m so sorry about your mama.
    Hugs & prayers to you and your family from Arkansas.

  95. oh sophie. all the love to you and your sweet family. xoxo

  96. Thinking about you, your family and your sweet Mama. I so enjoyed reading about her in (all your books) but the tears just wouldn’t stop at the end of Giddy Up, Eunice. I just got back to Arizona after 10 days of being home in southern Mississippi & there is nothing quite like a strong southern mama or Mamaw. I know because I have 3 that I strive to be like on a daily basis.

  97. Natalie N. says:

    What a legacy. You honor her so well. Just finished Eunice last night. Thank you for sharing her with us.

  98. Ann in Maryland says:

    So sorry to hear about the loss of your dear and darling mother, Sophie. But I’m not surprised to hear that the Lord has been wrapping you up in love and support.

    I know there are many of us out here who have been keeping you in our prayers. Take as much time as you need. We’ll all be here waiting for you when you’re ready to blog again! Sending hugs out to you!

  99. Sophie, I am so sorry for the loss of your Mother. I’m glad you were able to share those last sweet memories with her. They are blessings from God that will help you thru the sad days. Praying for you and your family!

  100. Oh Sophie, I am so very sorry. I know that we do not know each other, but please know that I am praying for you and your family. Grief is VERY weird. I can’t imagine what you are going through. Thank you for sharing stories about your Mama.