Here’s to the women who gave us life.
In the words of Mitch Albom, “Behind all your stories is always your mother’s story, because hers is where yours begins.” I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: The man may write sentimental novellas I can’t stand, but sometimes he writes truth.
Maybe your mother was the best. Or maybe she was the worst on the block. Maybe she was just human, living in the in between. Or maybe she was never even there. Or maybe you lost her too soon. Still, each of us walking this earth was given life in a womb, whether cold or warm.
Maybe on Mother’s Day you recoil, because life is all she ever gave you. If so, then here’s to life. Here’s to anyone who ever cared for you in her place. Here’s to crying over all the things she missed, because it’s okay to mourn the loss of her, even if she’s still alive somewhere apart from you.
Maybe on Mother’s Day you grieve, because her life wasn’t long enough. If so, here’s to the freedom to weep. The freedom to say that you miss her, and that you wish she were more today than a photograph and memories—no matter how wonderful or not wonderful the memories are. So here’s to the fact that she was yours in all her perfection and imperfection, if only for a short time.
Maybe on Mother’s Day you cringe, because though she was there, she didn’t give you what you needed. If so, here’s to every person who did and here’s to the possibility that she can change. Or you can change. So here’s to the hope of finding unexpected peace somewhere there in the middle, as long as you both have breath.
Maybe on Mother’s Day you hold her not just in your arms but in your heart, because she’s been everything you hope to be. If so, here’s to her. Here’s to the hope all mother’s have to be her, to be so cherished.
Here’s to the women who gave us LIFE.
Here’s to the women who gave us LOVE.
Whether they are one in the same. Whether they are not.
And if you, Dear Mother, feel LESS THAN today, here’s to seizing tomorrow.
And if you, Dear Mother, feel DEFEATED today, here’s to courage tomorrow.
And if you, Dear Mother, feel LOSS today, here’s to a comforted tomorrow.
And if you, Dear Mother, feel CELEBRATED today,
here’s to holding onto that gift into tomorrow and every day after.
And if you, Dearest Friend, feel an aching in empty arms today, may you be seen.
May your desire to nurture or be nurtured be fulfilled. May you be allowed to grieve your losses. And may you be blessed beyond what you can wish for or imagine today. May your life give birth to dreams. May your heart give birth to HOPE. And may you be loved. Fiercely. Deeply. Today, tomorrow and always.