The Many Faces Of Mothers Day

Mother’s Day can hold so many things at once.

For some, today is full of celebration. A morning coffee together. A phone call. Flowers on the kitchen table. The comfort of a relationship that feels safe, loving, and steady.

For others, today carries grief.

Grief for a mother who has died.
Grief for a mother whose mind or body is changing.
Grief for the relationship they wish they had.
Grief for distance, silence, complexity, or unresolved hurt.
Grief for the version of their mother they remember and miss deeply.

As an end of life doula, I have sat with many people this year who are moving through these exact experiences.

I have sat with people sorting through old photographs and handwritten letters, trying to feel close to someone they can no longer call. I have sat with people at bedside, holding their mother’s hand, looking at someone who once felt so strong and capable and familiar, while quietly wishing things were different. I have witnessed the strange and tender duality of feeling thankful for more time while grieving the changes unfolding in front of them.

Both things can be true at the same time.

You can feel grateful and heartbroken.
You can feel love and resentment.
You can feel relief and sadness.
You can celebrate and grieve in the very same breath.

Mother’s Day can be beautiful, and it can also ache.

What makes days like today especially difficult is how loudly the world celebrates around us. The advertisements asking what you are buying your mom. The brunch reservations. The cheerful social media posts. The reminders everywhere you turn.

For someone carrying loss or anticipatory grief, those reminders can feel heavy.

And for those with complicated relationships, today can bring a quiet loneliness that is hard to explain. Sometimes grief is not only about losing someone. Sometimes it is grieving the relationship you needed but did not fully receive.

I think many people move through today with a pang in their chest. For some it is small. For others it feels enormous.

If that is you, I hope you allow yourself some softness today.

I hope you let yourself feel whatever is true for you without judging it.
I hope you remember there is no right way to move through a day like this.
I hope you know that your grief, your gratitude, your relief, your love, your exhaustion, your longing, and your tenderness can all belong here too.

Today is not one thing.
Neither is motherhood.
Neither is grief.

Thinking of all those celebrating, remembering, longing, caregiving, grieving, and simply trying to get through the day with an open heart.