Mother’s Day Reflections: A Journey Through Love, Loss, and Legacy

Mother’s Day always stirs something deep in me — a mixture of gratitude, ache, and quiet reflection. My journey into motherhood began early. I became a mom at just 20 years old. I was still growing myself, still figuring out life, and suddenly I was responsible for another life. It was terrifying, beautiful, and powerful all at once. Then again at 26, I experienced that beautiful transformation of becoming a mother — this time a little older, a little wiser, and a little more confident.

But not all moments of motherhood are wrapped in joy. At 24, I experienced a late term miscarriage. A loss that was invisible to the world but deeply felt in my heart. It taught me about grief, resilience, and the quiet strength that women carry. It reminded me that every mother’s journey is layered — not just with love, but with sorrow, hope, and healing too.

And then, at 36, I faced a loss that rocked me to my core — my own mother passed away. Losing her was like losing a compass, a sense of home. She was my anchor, my advisor, and the woman whose legacy I now attempt live out daily.

My Mom and siblings.

My mother taught me some of the most important lessons in life — by how she lived. She gave freely to others, even when she had little herself. Her heart was always open, especially to those who had less. I saw her share meals, money, time, and energy — not because she had abundance, but because she was abundance. Her kindness wasn’t performative; it was instinctive.

She also taught me how to stretch a dollar, not out of scarcity, but out of creativity and grit. From turning leftovers into something new and delicious, to transforming hand-me-downs into treasures, she made the most out of everything she had.

And lately, I’ve caught myself doing things she used to do — little things I never expected. Holding my own hands just like she did or crossing my ankles like her. I used to resist becoming her. I wanted to be different, to forge my own path. But now, those small, familiar gestures feel like home. They’re gentle reminders that she’s still with me — in the way I move, the way I love, the way I mother, and hopefully the way I grandmother.

So, on this Mother’s Day, I celebrate not only the mother I’ve become — molded by my children, shaped by joy and heartbreak — but the mother who raised me. I carry her lessons in my hands, in my heart, and in how I love my own kids.

My beautiful momma!

To every woman who is a mother, has lost a mother, longs to be a mother, or mothers others through love — today is for us. For our strength, our softness, our sacrifices, and the legacies we pass on.

Happy Mother’s Day — may your day be filled with peace, love, and quiet reminders of the women who made us who we are.

With Joy......Lynn