Mother’s Day

My mama and Me, Circa 1984

I prepare myself for people who don’t know me well to ask, well intentioned, if I’m doing anything special with my mom on Sunday. Then there’s the awkward moment where I explain that she’s gone. I hear coworkers talk about their plans to get a pedicure or have a fun day of shopping with their moms, and I feel envious and just a little lost.

Thankfully, I only had to endure one Mother’s Day after losing my own mom before I became a mother myself- and even then, I was a few months pregnant and already a mother at heart. I am grateful to have children of my own now to shift my focus from feeling sad and lost, to hopeful and happy. Not a day goes by that I don’t find myself doing something that reminds me of her…

Snuggling my boys to sleep, and waking them in the morning with gentle smooches

Dancing like a freak to make my boys laugh… or sometimes just to bug them

Calling Harrison Love Bug

Blasting age-inappropriate music, dancing and singing my heart out in the car

Sitting patiently with my Harrison, on his bed, as he works through difficult feelings of anger, stress, and anxiety

Saying I love you about a million times each day

Treating my children like people, truly valuing their feelings

I realize that I was raised by an amazingly, patient, kind, hardworking, selfless mother who taught me what it means to love unconditionally. There are so many times on this crazy road called parenthood, where I wish I could call her for advice... or just a good cry. But by trying to mirror her mothering style, I can almost feel her presence.



The way I remember her



I showed Harrison this picture the other day and he said, You look like your mudder.

Thanks buddy, I sure hope so.