Mother’s day is tomorrow. My Mother’s birthday is in two days, she would have been 79.

There have been years past that the grief ripped at me. I needed my Mom, I needed a her advice on how to be a parent, a wife, me. Other years I feel just a hollow, a wash of grief. This year is different, this year that grief, that longing, is mired up in so many other things, it seems just a piece. All that comes to mind about her is this: I miss and love you Mom, everyday. Happy Mother’s Day. Happy Birthday.

I very much have a kaleidoscope view of what Mother is. I did not raise my first born. He has an amazing Mother that I love and admire. Yet I feel very ‘motherly’ toward him, he is still my child (grown man), and I will be protective of him until my last breath. My daughter, whom I have raised, provides me the day to day prism colours of Motherhood. The intricate dance between the joy and frustration of parenting. The deep connection and love we have, watching her grow, and the bittersweet acknowledgment of her budding autonomy into a young woman. I have been told that I am a mentor and appreciated by some, I hold much gratitude for this, and I feel protective of so many that I know, regardless of age. I believe it is my strong connection to the Goddess that allows this maternal feeling toward life in general to be so present in my life.

So today- in this very skewed world, I am not in a place where I am desperate for my own Mother’s guidance. Perhaps it is because she would not have had experience to draw from to teach me how to be, what to do, right now. Part of me is grateful she is not here, it would be a constant state of worry about her health and what could happen. I am glad she did not see the mess the world has become. But I really could use her hug, a place to weep my tears of frustration and confusion. A place where I could fall apart, just for a moment.

I am feeling ferociously protective of all I know, yet aside from sharing the odd bit of food (doorstep drop off), and removed electronic communication, I don’t feel connected to a majority of my world. To the people I can help, the people I enjoy, I feel cut off, energetically deprived.

My son is safe and healthy, but removed, living his life and I trust doing well. He is very much a young man with a beautiful life of his own, but I worry as does his Mother, these times are messy and we want to make sure he is secure.

I am trying so hard to protect my daughter and guide her through this. Not unscarred, but to trust there will be wisdom that will come from this. To help her keep balanced as best as she can. I allow her to feel as she will, angry, lonely, joy, humour and frustration. There is no handbook for this. It is the best that can be done. I let her know that I am also experiencing these things, and that we will be ok, together.

This Mother’s day is odd. Do I feel like I have been a great mom? No. But I appreciate that all I do comes from a deep love and appreciation of all I have, all the people (born to me and not) that I adore. I believe my children know I will always do what I can to help them be their own best selves. I feel I often come up short, limping along, slipping up in a frustrated moment. I feel all too fragile when I need to be strong. I feel all too stupid, when I should know what to do. I feel all too human, when I really want to be a superhero. The overwhelmed emotion I feel this Mother’s day is not just because I miss my own Mother, it is a reflection of this time we are trying to navigate.

I celebrate all the Mom’s I know – we are tired, frustrated, angry, calm, messy, loving, beautiful and perfectly human. We try so hard and many of us feel we come up short. The emotional load this pandemic has added is unbelievable, we were already operating from an overwhelmed place that we have allowed society to dictate. I admire all the Mom’s (wether you have children born to you, raised them, don’t have any of your own, we all bring the divine maternal to many elements in our lives), I think you are amazing. I think you are so much more than you see, than you feel. I see you all operating from a place of deep love, and that is the most Motherly thing we can do. I love each of you in this sisterhood immensely.

So this weekend, remember who you are. Love yourself for the complexity, love yourself for doing what you can. Love yourself. Happy Mother’s Day- rest, you deserve it.