Mother Loss, Mother's Day, Mother's Day Without My Mother, Motherless Daughter, Motherless mother's day

Motherless Mother’s Day

To all of you who are without your mother today I understand the grief felt. I understand the loneliness and the longing. You want to share so many life experiences with your mother. She would want to be here to share those things with you. To those of you who are without a loving, caring, devoted mother, that is something I don’t know, and I can only imagine the grief experienced in that situation.

Our experiences differ. But the loneliness for our mothers is the same. A deeply felt longing for the nurturer who brought us into this world, or for the person who carried us in this world after another brought us in. We will always miss that person.

It is okay to feel sad, ripped off, angry, envious, tired, fed up. It is okay to cry. And it is okay to laugh. It is okay to feel okay. Whatever your feelings, they are yours and they are valid. Our life has brought us to this place. We are here now to live in the moment and feel whatever it is we are feeling, to experience new things as our lives unfold, different to what it was before.

Let’s keep in mind that others are grieving this mother’s day. There are children who have mothers who can’t love them back. There are adults who have mothers who can’t love them back. There are sick mommas out there. Mommas who won’t be around much longer. There are motherless mothers who want to celebrate with their children but are so overwhelmed by their own grieving that they cannot.

Check out these suggestions of mine for the motherless on Mother’s Day. Perhaps there is an idea that will work for you. You are also welcome to post a picture of your mom on my author’s page in the comments section beneath the photo I posted of my mother, Kathleen.

Momma

You are not alone although it certainly might feel that way. There are so many of us who are motherless and understand the feeling of living without a mother. And for those who are fortunate to have their mother this Mother’s Day, I send blessings and happiness. What a glorious thing!

Keeping you all in my thoughts today! Sending love and hugs…

“My heart aches for sisters more than anything it aches for women helping women like flowers ache for spring” Rupi Kaur

 

 

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Grief, Mother Loss, Mother's Day, Mother's Day Without My Mother, Motherless Daughter, Without my mother

12 Ideas for Motherless Daughters on Mother’s Day

Mother’s Day is challenging for those of us without our mothers. It’s a difficult day for people who never knew their mothers and for those abandoned by the person who was supposed to love them more than anything. I was blessed to have a devoted and loving mother for the first eleven years of my life. This piece is written from this perspective.

I’ve written previous blogs about Mother’s Day. I personally experience two every year: Ireland’s Mother’s Day in March, and here in the USA in May. Honestly, one is enough, but as I’m from Ireland my feed announces Mother’s Day in all of its glory both times of the year. Around the globe mothers are celebrated and this is a wonderful thing, but for many it is a sad day.

I found this sweet little card that I made for my mammy when I was probably five or six years old. Dad saved it and gave it to me along with a couple of others. The card and the cute little message inside bring me close to tears. Mammy died when I was eleven.

Mothers day card

Motherless women are asking how they should spend Mother’s Day when they no longer have their mother around to celebrate. For some it is the dreaded first Mother’s Day since a mother’s death. May 14th is not going to be easy. It’s probably going to be very painful. But there are some things we can do to make it bearable and special. Possibly even fun. Here are 12 ideas:

  1. Find a time in the day, preferably morning to meditate for five minutes or fifteen if you can, whatever feels good to you. Light your favorite scented candle. Sit comfortably with your eyes closed and invite your mother into your space. Hold her in your thoughts. Focus on the gratitude you feel for your mother and the gift of life that she gave you. Reflect on some memories you have of her. Let the tears flow if they come. Grief is love, remember. Breathe.
  2. Display a picture of your mother in a prominent place. Wear a pendant containing her photograph throughout the day. Hold her in your heart. Speak to her.
  3. Buy a beautiful bouquet of flowers, for your mother, and place them in your home. Flowers lend cheer and beauty to a space. They can remind you of the love you have for your mother and the love she had for you.
  4. Is there a song that reminds you of your mother? Or a song that brings you peace? A song that deeply moves me is Eric Clapton’s ‘Tears in Heaven’. The first time I heard it I thought the song had been written for me. Have a good cry if you need to.
  5. Create a collage using pictures from magazines or inspiring photo journals. Paste pictures that remind you of your mother onto a large piece of card stock or paperboard. I did this once with the Portland Motherless Daughter’s group when I was the organizer. We sat around together working quietly on our collages and then those who wanted to, shared their pictures. The collages were beautiful. Mommas were represented by the choice of flowers, colors and symbolic pictures selected.
  6. If you are a mother let yourself be treated by your family and celebrated. It is what your mother would want. And you deserve it.
  7. Go to your local bookstore, your library, or online if that’s your preference and order one of the books on my list of 10 Books I Recommend for Motherless Daughters. I suggest going to a bookstore or library because the act of getting out of the house with a goal in mind will allow you to focus on something else for a while. Perhaps you’ll pass a beautiful tree on your drive or better yet, on your walk if that is an option. If you have one of these books already at home you might want to settle in to a cozy chair with a cup of hot tea or coffee and reread it.
  8. Read blog posts by motherless daughters. Reading about other people’s experiences can bring comfort. One feels understood and less alone. My blog A LOVELY WOMAN has several blog entries about mother loss and I also have a Facebook page where I post about grief regularly. Project Brave birds is an inspiring page dedicated to celebrating the journeys and achievements of brave girls and women who have lost their mothers around the world. Without My Mum is an active private group page hosted by Leigh Van Der Horst where women share their feelings on mother loss and offer up support. And the Motherless Daughters Facebook community page shares many articles on mother loss including my own. These are valuable and loving places to go for comfort and support.
  9. Write a letter to your mother. This is therapeutic and can be a valuable exercise in grieving. Let yourself cry and laugh. Release whatever needs to be released. Put down the words. It may even turn into a book!
  10. If you know somebody who has lost their mother invite them to meet for coffee or a walk in the park. Dedicate an hour to talking about your mothers. Or seek out a Motherless Daughters meetup group in your city. Host a potluck for motherless daughters or work on that collage I mentioned previously with other motherless daughters. Spend time with those who understand the tremendous impact of this great loss.
  11. Take part in this new Mother’s Day gift swap idea. I’m unable to participate this year but I’d love to hear from those of you who try it.
  12. If you just want to get away from it all plan a trip. Travel somewhere you’ve always wanted to go. Go in honor of your mother. Plan something ahead of time that will keep your mind off the Hallmark holiday. I often take a trip on this day and I will be traveling again this May 14th. I make the day about what I want it to be. If you can’t afford to travel somewhere or you can’t get away for an entire day take a walk in your favorite park, go for a short hike or a drive in the countryside. Go solo or bring your favorite person or a precious pet. Immerse yourself in nature. It is truly healing.

We are going to feel lonely, despairing and possibly unheard this Mother’s Day. It isn’t helpful to conceal or deny our emotions. But also let us remember that we carry our mothers with us wherever we go. They live on through us and they want us to be happy and to live our lives in joy. This is not always easy, but I believe it’s possible and it’s certainly worth a try.

They are not dead who live
In hearts they leave behind.
In those whom they have blessed
They live a life again,
And shall live through the years
Eternal life, and grow
Each day more beautiful
As time declares their good,
Forgets the rest, and proves
Their immortality.
They Softly Walk by Hugh Robert Orr
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Death, Grief, Grief stories, In honor of my mother, Love, Mother's Day, Motherless Daughter, Mothers and Daughters, Without my mother

Mother’s Day Without My Mother

A spiritual healer once gave me this advice: “Close your eyes and visualize yourself as a young child when you were feeling anxious.You didn’t even realize you were scared. Now hold that child close to you and whisper to her that she will be okay. Tell her that she is not alone. Hold her. Let her rest against you. Visualize it. She’ll hear you.”

I performed the visualization. I hope it helped little me. It helps me now just to imagine that I am holding my five year old self tight, hugging me close, running my fingers through my soft, clean hair.

Love is really the only thing that counts, isn’t it? We all crave it. Everybody wants to be loved. And if we are fortunate enough to have love in our lives, we do everything we can to hold on to it. When somebody we love loves us back, wants to hold us, hear what we have to say and spend time with us, it is a gift like no other. When we lose that somebody, the grief we experience feels unbearable.

But grief is love that is stored inside of us with no place to go. We grieve because we have loved. And to love is a beautiful thing.

This past week I read a very sad story. I read that a beautiful family has been ripped apart suddenly and tragically, a young nursing mother left to raise her newborn baby in the wake of losing her four year old daughter. The young woman’s husband sustained serious brain injuries and is fighting for his life. This story choked me up. There is so much sadness and tragedy in our world. I find it hard to take sometimes. I’m a highly sensitive person which according to Susan Cain, author of ‘Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking‘ means that I ‘feel exceptionally strong emotions-sometimes acute bouts of joy, but also sorrow, melancholy, and fear.’ I also believe that I have a deeper empathy and compassion for those suffering as a result of the years I spent watching my mother battle cancer. I know what it feels like to be afraid of losing someone you love, to feel helpless as you watch them suffer, to lose that person and never see them again. It’s a pain so cutting and deep that it can take your breath away.

This Sunday, March 26, is Mother’s Day in Ireland where I grew up. It is Mother’s Day in the UK and in other parts of the world. I’ve already planned an escape for our USA Mother’s Day in May. Everyone will celebrate their mothers, as they should, but it’s really, really hard for those of us who have lost ours. We are forced to remember exactly what we live without.

I’m reading a book called ‘The Happiness Project‘ at the moment. It’s a great book by Gretchen Rubin about finding happiness in everyday places and things. I’m generally a happy person. I’m full of gratitude for many aspects of my life but I wanted to see what I could learn from this happiness project of hers. Only a few pages in the author needs advice so she calls her mother for a ‘pep talk.’ Then she casually mentions that throughout her life her mother made her feel ‘that nothing was insurmountable.’ There it is! That jolt of awareness! That sadness in my chest because I didn’t have that. There were no phone calls to my mother for pep talks. She wasn’t there after my eleventh year.

Mother’s Day during my school years were the worst. Teachers encouraged us all to create cards or dedicate art projects to our mothers. None of my teachers ever addressed the fact that I no longer had a mother. I felt awkward, different, sad, bewildered. I probably doodled on a page or drew a picture for Dad. I don’t remember exactly what I did, but I remember the pain in my heart on those occasions and just feeling so left out.

This coming Mother’s Day I want to visualize eleven year old me. I want to hold her close and whisper that she is loved and that she will be okay. I got this. I am strong. My mother is with me always. I am part of her and she is part of me. Blessed to still have my dad, I carry his love with me everyday, and I carry the strength of my ancestors who have gone before us.

I know that there are people around the world suffering great sadness and injustices as I write. Their pain is my pain. Their joy is my joy. For those people fortunate enough to still have their mothers and to be mothers, I wish them all a day filled with love and happiness. And for those of us who have loved and lost, I hear you and I see you. We understand each other’s sorrow. Let’s lift each other up in whatever ways we can. Let’s honor the mothers in all of us, every day. The world needs more mothering and much more love.

We rise by lifting others

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Anniversary, Death, Grief, Moments, Mother's Day, Motherless Daughter, Offering support to someone who has lost their mother

Five Ways to be Present for Someone Who Has Lost Their Mother

I lost my mother to ovarian cancer when I was 11 years old. I’m 39 now. I’ve lived more years without my mother than with her. And I’ve been through countless experiences without her by my side. When I was little people outside of my family didn’t speak to me about Mam. I’m sure they didn’t want to upset me, or themselves. They figured it was better to ignore the topic and move along. They didn’t know what to say. After so many years as a motherless daughter I’ve come to understand the ways in which we can be there for others who have lost. There are triggers that are upsetting to us, and there are ways in which a person can make a profound difference in our day. Recently somebody wrote to me and asked me how they could support a friend who had lost their mother. I responded immediately. I didn’t need to think about it because I’ve lived it.

1.Someone you know has lost their mother. There is nothing you or anybody can do to bring their mother back. What you can do is ask them how they are doing and be ready to listen. If your friend or loved one has recently lost their mother and isn’t ready to speak about it try again in a few days or a few weeks. It might take months for them to be ready but it makes a world of difference to know that there is someone who genuinely wants to be present for them. And when they are ready to talk give them your full attention, take their hand if you feel inclined, and let them talk or cry. You don’t need to say anything. Just hear them out. Sometimes we think that we need to offer people answers but we don’t. Being heard is the key here.

I’m not suggesting you need to be a therapist for this person, or that you should neglect your own life or your own self-care. In some cases a person might need encouragement to see a therapist. Often all we need is a quick release or just the knowing that we can talk to a close friend when we need to. Some women have never had the chance to talk about losing their mothers. One of the most special things you can do for them is encourage them to talk about their moms. Just watch as their eyes light up!

2.Be aware of what you are saying. Over the years I’ve been reminded time and again what I’m missing out on when I’m with friends and they are talking about going for pedicures with their mothers or taking vacation with their moms. It always sparks a little something, but it’s unavoidable really, because so many women still have their mothers and like to do things with them. Honestly, it brings me joy to witness the blessings of others, even when I feel that twinge of sadness for myself.

And when I’m in the company of strangers, people don’t know my circumstances. Maybe if people stopped assuming we all had mothers, that would be a start. Even my teachers in school would tell us “Bring this note home to your mothers!” and they knew my mother had died! They never seemed to think! When I was a teacher I made a very conscious decision to always say to my children “Give this to your mom or dad or whoever is taking care of you!” According to the children’s personal circumstances I changed how I spoke.

If somebody in your circle has lost their mother, it might not be the best thing to start up a conversation about the blessings of having a mother, in their company. That might sound obvious, but it has happened to me. In college I had two friends discuss the joys of having mothers who cared for them while I bit my lip and looked away. And I know I’m not the only one who has had this experience.

3.Pay attention to dates. That person’s mother had a birthday. When was it? What date did that person’s mother die? This is huge! Mam died on March 2nd. That date is ingrained in my brain. I go to bed the night before in anticipation of the day ahead and I wake up with thoughts of Mam, how she died, how little I was, how uncertain everything was and my mind is just spinning. Some women spend the day in bed, unwilling to get up and face the day because it’s too hard for them. Imagine the difference it would make to receive a text message or a kind phone call letting that person know that you are thinking of them. Send them a bunch of flowers. Flowers brighten everyone’s world. Perhaps ask what their mother’s favorite flowers were and send those.

The same goes for your friend’s mother’s birthday. What should be a celebration is now just a memory of past celebrations. Ask your friend if there is anything they would like to do on that date to help celebrate or remember their mother.

Mother’s Day is very tough. Please understand that while you might be celebrating your mother (and this is a wonderful thing) she is mourning hers. And if you are very close to that person, please don’t remain silent on the day, hoping nobody will remember. A motherless daughter never forgets those dates. Help her know that she is not alone.

4.Introduce her to other friends who have lost their mothers. This is another huge one! I wish I had known other motherless daughters growing up. I didn’t know any. I felt very alone in this. I felt different from everybody else. I was very fortunate to have a fantastic father and I got on very well with my older brother but if I had been introduced to another little girl like me it would have made a tremendous difference in my life.

Recently, through my author’s page  I heard from a lady of similar age to me, who lost her mother around the same time as I did and lived in the same town. I remember the girl though I didn’t know her at the time and had no idea that she was motherless too. When she reached out to me I wanted to do a time travel back into my past and throw my arms around that little girl. We could’ve been a team, the two of us, without our mothers but together, hand in hand.

It wasn’t until I moved to Portland, Oregon and discovered the Motherless Daughters group here, at the same time as I discovered Hope Edelman’s book, that I began to meet and form connections with other women who had lost their mothers. What a gift it has been!

5.Don’t compare having a bad relationship with your mother to someone whose mother has died. Certainly this is traumatic in its own way. I have friends who are estranged from their mothers and I listen to them speak about the rejection they felt growing up or the abuse they suffered. In some ways I feel that what they’ve been through may even be worse than what I went through because I had a very caring, devoted and nurturing mother. At the same time it’s not the same thing. One friend of mine would say “I may as well go with you to the Motherless Daughters group because all I do is fight with my mom. She may as well be dead!” This was very upsetting to hear. All I wanted was my mother and even though my friend wasn’t on good terms with hers she still had her at the other end of the phone line.

Everyone’s circumstances are different and some situations are so bad that the person’s mother is as good as dead to them. My point is acknowledging the differences. Death means gone forever and no opportunity whatsoever to change that, no chance of ever seeing that person in the flesh again and no possibility to alter the past.

We have the potential to lift others in times of sadness. Often we want to help but we don’t know how.

The round sky goes on minding its business.
Your absence is inconspicuous;
Nobody can tell what I lack.

Parliament Hill Fields –  by Sylvia Plath

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Grief, Mother's Day, Motherless Daughter

Mother’s Day For a Motherless Daughter

For a time I was able to avoid thinking of Mother’s Day. It was the period when I was not in a relationship and was free to immerse myself in whatever activities I chose in order to distract myself by doing something fun, something that had nothing to do with mothers. Other than that time, Mother’s Day has been really difficult since losing Mam at age 11. Come to think of it, I disliked the day even before Mam died. My mother spent weeks and months in hospital on and off for several years and while my classmates, giddy and excited, colored cards and talked about how they would celebrate as a family, I bit my lip and wondered how Mam might feel on the day. After Mam died it was worse. I’d sit in class scribbling on paper while a detached teacher corrected work at the top of the room. Then there was the period as mentioned above, where I had no attachments and was able to tune out anything to do with Hallmark cards and Mother’s Day lunches.

Now I live in the USA and must deal with two Mother’s Day celebrations. Celebrated here today, and in Ireland in March, it’s a double whammy thanks to social media. Not only is it tough for us motherless, it’s a challenging day for those who wish to be mothers and can’t, and for those longing for a healthy relationship with their mothers but will never have it. Of course it’s a joyful occasion for many. A close friend of mine just gave birth to twin girls. I held them at two weeks old. My heart melted. I love babies. I love my friend and her husband. I’m so happy for them. My friend should be celebrated on this day. Mother’s Day carries a sadness for me that is my own but I appreciate the joys.

During the years when I was a kindergarten teacher, I had to give great consideration to Mother’s Day. But I was able to remove myself from the pain. The focus was not on me, it was on my little ones who adored their mothers and couldn’t wait to decorate and send their specially crafted Mother’s Day cards from the local post office close to our school. My kindergartners would talk about what made their moms special, and as their mentor and nurturer my focus was on them and not on me. I lost Mam very early in life. She was taken from me much too soon. I wanted these children to celebrate their moms and I wanted to help them express this love through art and words and song. I was blown away, year after year, by the love the mothers I encountered had for their children. It was powerful and undeniable and sometimes made me ache because I didn’t have that anymore. But more than that, the love I bore witness to in my classroom revealed the depth of my own mother’s love for me. “Wow, Mam must have felt like this,” I often reflected. Having grown up in Ireland, in the ’70’s and 80’s, a time and place where emotions weren’t expressed in the ways they are today, I knew without a doubt that I was loved. But I couldn’t have understood the extent of that love until I was surrounded by mothers who would do anything for their children.The way they spoke of them with such pride and affection and amusement was touching.

Mother’s Day in the classroom was also a refreshing time for me. As I drew my own pictures and the children worked on theirs, they would ask me who the woman with the curly hair was. I’d tell them it was Mam and they’d ask about her. Often shocked that she was no longer alive they were sorry for me and sweet. The innocence, honesty and concern expressed by my little kindergartners was healing. They weren’t afraid to ask questions or worried about saying the wrong thing. They asked because they were curious. They wanted to know how I was doing, how could I be doing, WITHOUT my MOTHER!

Yesterday I met with a Motherless Daughter’s group for a luncheon. We talked about our mothers, shared photographs and stories. It was therapeutic for me to spend the day before Mother’s Day with these ladies. For those of us who are motherless there aren’t opportunities for us to talk about our mothers. And we need that.

Meghan O’Rourke wrote in her memoir The Long Goodbye:

“Perhaps it is fitting, too, that while my grief has lessened, my sense of being motherless has intensified. I hadn’t anticipated this. The first grips of grief were so terrible that I couldn’t wait to get beyond them, to a state I hoped might be “better.” But as each new day arrives I find myself, though suffering less acutely, feeling more unmothered.”

At the luncheon yesterday we discussed how some of us have lived years without our moms while others are fresh in their grief. None of us are okay with being motherless. I am not grieving right now but my sense of being motherless is heightened because I am about to get married. Mam would have loved to come dress shopping with me. She would relish this time in my life and I can’t imagine the joy of having her with me.

Gloria Steinem posted a powerful piece about mothering this morning on her Facebook page:

“But when mother is a verb – as in to be mothered and to mother — ah, then the very best of human possibilities come into our imaginations. And we are all able to mother, whatever our sex or our age or our abilities.To mother is to care about the welfare of another person as much as one’s own.To mother depends on empathy and thoughtfulness, noticing and caring.”

And this reminds me of the nurturers in my life. My dad, who devoted his life to raising my brother and me, eased our suffering by being a constant, kind and loving father. Without him I don’t know who I’d be today. Mary, who came into my life in later years, cared about me, became my dear friend and showered me with love. Yes, we may be without our biological mothers, and nobody can ever replace the woman who birthed us into this world, but there are opportunities for all of us to nurture and through nurturing comes healing. There are ‘mothers’ in our world who may not have given birth, but the world is a better place because of their mothering. We all know a few. Let’s put our arms around each other on this Mother’s Day and be the best mothers we can be, to our earth, to our loved ones, to anyone who may need it on this day.

 

 

 

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