To The Mothers We Miss

Another Mother’s Day without you. If feels like the holiday shouldn’t exist since you’ve been gone, but I know that’s because without you, my entire world stopped for a while and hasn’t spun the same since.

I think I’ve made peace with this void, but it’s still a void. My only saving grace is the undeniable sense that your spirit is still with me. Your presence in my life is felt and your quiet guidance whispers to me still. Even though I can’t always hear you, you haven’t given up on me.

Every Mother’s Day I do feel happy for those who have the incredible privilege of celebrating with the women who raised them. I think I celebrate with them in my own way. It’s absolutely beautiful and of course it makes wish we could have that, it’s a bitter sweet cocktail served once a year. I want to buy you flowers and take you to a brunch you’ll secretly enjoy while outwardly side eyeing your plate, and re-seasoning your food at the table.

I want to take you out for your favorite dessert, buy you something you don’t need because it’s beautiful and watch random tv shows with you.

I wish I asked more questions, and knew more about you, but I just didn’t know to ask. Nothing seemed so urgent back then. So much is a mystery, but what I do know I keep in my heart.

Loving you has been one of the greatest joys and teachers of my life.

I’m working on finding more sweetness in this holiday. For now, I’ve learned to live with the mixed feelings.

I only wish we had more time.

Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers, here and beyond.

*dedicated to my grandmother Porcia, and to all the mothers we miss

Photo by Nick Fewings on Unsplash