(Sacred Ordinary – Mother’s Day)
Motherhood changes you in quiet ways at first.
Not all at once, not in some dramatic movie moment, but slowly, in the ordinary unfolding of days. In packed lunches and sleepless nights. In whispered prayers over sick children and grocery store budgets and standing in the kitchen wondering how everyone needs something from you at the exact same time.
Somewhere along the way, you realize you are no longer being held in the world the same way you once were.
You are the holder now.
The comforter.
The safe place.
The steady voice.
The one who keeps showing up even when she’s tired.
And on days like Mother’s Day, the beauty and ache of that can sit side by side.
Because while I’m being celebrated as a mother, there’s still a part of me that misses mine.
Still a daughter somewhere beneath all the responsibility and noise.
Still someone who sometimes wishes she could pick up the phone and hear the familiar voice that once made the world feel softer.
Grief changes shape over time, but it never fully leaves.
It just learns how to live beside the love.
And maybe that’s part of motherhood too,
understanding how deeply love roots itself into a person.
How it continues forward through generations in recipes, mannerisms, tenderness, resilience, and the way we care for the people placed in our hands.
I see pieces of my mother in me now.
In the way I nurture.
In the way I worry.
In the way I keep going even when I’m exhausted.
And I see pieces of myself blooming forward in my children too,
in their confidence, their curiosity, their softness, their strength.
That’s the sacred thing about motherhood:
love keeps echoing forward.
So today, I’m holding both gratitude and grief gently together.
Thankful for the children who made me a mother.
Thankful for the woman who made me feel loved first.
And thankful that even in the messy, loud, exhausting ordinary moments of life, love keeps finding ways to remain.
Happy Mother’s Day to the women missing their mothers while becoming one.
To the women carrying everyone else while quietly carrying their own ache too.
And to the mothers whose love still lives on in the hearts and homes they shaped. 🌿
