To all my motherless friends…
I write this post with tears streaming down my face. Mother’s Day is always hard. It reminds me that the hole in my soul will never go away, no matter how many years go by. It reminds me of the love and tenderness with which my mother nourished me, something that helps me love well today. It reminds me that in her passing I have been able to reach out to the grieving community in ways I might never have done otherwise. It reminds me that my mother is worthy of a wonderful celebration every single day, not just Mother’s Day.
And so I extend a loving hand to all of you who are remembering your mothers and aching just a little harder today. I hold you and comfort you as our tears mingle and we remember. I send you healing thoughts and warm memories that will hold you together not just today but for the rest of your lives.
I understand your pain. I feel your powerful sadness. I realize how hard your road is, especially on days like today.
Celebrate your mom, no matter where she is. For she sees you and smiles down upon you. Her dreams live on inside your heart. Write her a letter and send it up in a colorful balloon. Make a Mother’s Day special collage of pictures that will make you laugh and cry at the same time. Sing a song for her. Watch her favorite movie.
Grief is a roller coaster. It’s been four years since my mother passed away. Yet, there are days and moments and milestones that trigger the pain. But if it weren’t for the grief of losing her and living through it, I wouldn’t be where I am today, doing the work I do in the world. For that, I thank her. She was a beautiful gift in my life and every Mother’s Day I am reminded of it.
So wipe your tears and crack a smile. You’re still the apple of her eye.
Mother’s Day is hard for me, too, as are most holidays. I guess I feel like it brings into focus the holes and losses in my life that I manage to ignore or deal with better on other days. My mom died in 2005; our son in 2002.
Yes, it’s a difficult day for those mourning sons and daughters too. I didn’t mean to exclude you folks. Take care and do something that brings meaning to this day. I guess that’s one way we can try to get through it. For me that looks like calling a dear friend who’s in hospice care. She has no children and I have no mom…we’re a perfect fit!
This was my first Mother’s Day motherless and childless. It was very hard!!
Yes, I know this is your first time…and i thought of you and Vicki this morning. My prayers are with you, Tersia. Be gentle with yourself.
Bless you Uma
Thank you for your compassion and friendship. I have nominated you for the Wonderful Team Member Award. I hope you will accept. https://tersiaburger.com/2013/05/18/wonderful-team-member-readership-award/
Thank you, Tersia. I hope you’re healing one day at a time. That’s all we can ever do.
Simply lovely, I am going to forward this to a few friends of mine. <3
But I hope you reprint this on Father’s Day, My dad died 11 years ago. I miss him still.
I sure will. Thanks for your feedback.
Very nice article Uma. To me it is not only mother’s day when I miss her.It is always. After her death I felt part of me died too. whenever I feel great about my small/big achievements or feel very low and depressed the first person who comes to my mind is my mom. I always feel that she is with me all the time
That is so true, Lalitha. Mothers are missed, no matter what day it is. And yes, you’re absolutely right…she’s always with you, just in a different energy. You need to tune in to a different station to access her energy now. One of the best ways we can heal our pain is to help another who is grieving. No hurt is wasted then.
Oh, so beautifully and poetically put, Ums! Loved every word of what you have written!
Thanks, Vidu. Glad you liked it.