As another Mother’s Day rolls around, I find myself caught in a whirlwind of emotions. It’s a day that’s supposed to be filled with flowers, homemade cards, and all the love in the world, but for me, it’s a bittersweet reminder of both the joy and the ache of motherhood.
This year, I’m celebrating as a Mum myself, and let me tell you, there’s nothing quite like the feeling of your little one running up to you with sticky hands and that toothy grin, proudly presenting you with hand-drawn masterpieces. My heart swells with love, but there’s also a twinge of sadness that hangs in the air, like a shadow that never fully fades.
You see, I no longer have my Mother, and while I cherish every moment of being a parent, there’s an undeniable emptiness that comes from not being able to share this experience with her. I often find myself wishing I could pick up the phone and call her, just to hear her voice, to seek her advice, or to share the little joys (and the chaos) of motherhood. I can almost hear her laughter and feel her hugs, and yet, they’re just memories now, sweet but tinged with longing.
Mother’s Day used to be a day filled with her love, we’d always celebrate her! Now, it’s a day that reminds me of what I’ve lost. But it’s also a day that allows me to reflect on the incredible legacy she left behind. She taught me about love, patience, and resilience - lessons that I carry with me as I navigate the beautiful mess that is parenting.
I often find myself thinking about what she would say to me now. I can picture her smiling as she watches my son play, a twinkle in her eye as she sees parts of herself come alive in him. I try to honour her memory by being the kind of Mum she would be proud of - one who embraces the chaos, laughs through the tears, and loves fiercely.
So, as I juggle the joys of motherhood with the pangs of loss, I’ve learned to find beauty in the bittersweet. I remind myself that it’s okay to feel both joy and sorrow simultaneously. It’s a testament to the love that binds us, not just the love I have for my child, but the love I had for my Mum, which still shapes me every day.
This Mother’s Day, I’m holding space for both celebrations: the laughter and the tears, the joy of my son’s love and the bittersweet ache of missing my own Mum. I’ll take the time to honour her in my heart, while also embracing the beautiful chaos of my own little family. After all, love isn’t linear, it’s messy, complicated, and beautifully intertwined.
To all the mamas out there feeling a little bittersweet today, I see you. We’re all in this together, navigating the highs and lows of motherhood. Let’s celebrate the love, the memories, and the journey - both the sweet and the bittersweet. Happy Mother’s Day!