Happy Mother’s Day - to the Moms We Hold Close and the Moms We Carry With Us

The last time I wrote about my mom here, it was in the context of her illness and how it helped inform my position on healthcare. But it’s Mother’s Day Weekend, and so I’m not really thinking about her illness—I’m thinking about who she was and the legacy she created.

My mom was a singer. I remember her singing along to Celine Dion in the car in the 90s and committing to the entire song with an enthusiasm that now feels heroic. Our house was always full of music because my mom loved to sing, my dad played guitar, and I would jump in there too on piano, flute, or tuba. As an angsty teen, I used to complain when she got started, but as I look back, I love that my mom would perform for us in the middle of ordinary moments. And now, every time my daughter belts out a song at full volume in our kitchen, I see my mom’s legacy living on.

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We still watch The Wizard of Oz on Mother’s Day because it was one of her favorites, and now is one of mine. My mom had an elite wicked witch laugh, and mine is not too bad either. Overall, my mom was a goofy-voice queen; she had many silly accents and over-the-top characters.

Mom and I had some tough times over the years, especially as I grew into adulthood. As I’ve gotten older, and especially now that I’m a mom myself, I understand her differently. I see how hard she worked to make things feel special, even when she wasn’t feeling her best. I see a lot of her sacrifices more clearly now. I see the effort it took to keep joy alive in a house while carrying pain that others could not fully understand. I acknowledge that I’ve made her more angelic in my memory, but I think part of that is based on how challenging I have learned that motherhood and holding everything together can be.

I also see a lot more of her that exists in me. My love of baking and cooking. My singing and love of music. My instinct to listen to people. My desire to take care of people. Those things came from her or were nurtured by her. And by my grandmas, my aunts, mothers-in-law, and so many women who showed up as mothers in one way or another throughout my life.

Motherhood is complicated. Family is complicated. Love is complicated. But it is such a blessing to have women who leave pieces of themselves with us.

I’m waxing poetic now, but it brings me joy to know that long after the people we love are gone, we can still hear them. In the songs our kids sing. In recipes, we make without thinking. In the traditions we keep. In the little habits, phrases, and laughs I didn’t realize I even inherited until one day I hear her voice in my head as I do them. I thank God for those precious moments.

So Happy Mother’s Day to the moms, grandmas, stepmoms, aunts, mentors, and mother figures who shape us. Who pass down lessons and legacies that live far longer than they might realize.

To the moms we get to hug today, and to the ones we carry with us still. Love you, mom!

And of course, to my fellow Moms on a Mission all over the country fighting to make this country a better place—thank you.

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