A Motherless Tribe
I’m a strong believer in sharing our hearts,
sharing our love,
sharing our thoughts,
and to my motherless sisters
who have lost as I,
our precious sweet mothers
who are no longer close by,
we can guide one another
and share our hearts,
share our grief
as we fall apart.
We can speak our sorrows,
make time to meet,
help each other
get back on our feet.
What we’ve lost
can never be replaced,
we long for our mother,
just to see her face.
I like to imagine my mother with me in spirit,
she’s in nature and beauty
and a bird’s song when I hear it.
Some of us sense our mothers close by;
some of us lose her completely when she dies.
Our experiences differ,
our beliefs aren’t the same,
but because we long for our mothers,
we know each other’s pain.
We are motherless daughters,
a tribe of our own;
let’s connect and share our stories,
we are not alone.
by Carmel Breathnach 2017
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.
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
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.
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:
- 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.
- 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.
- 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.
- 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.
- 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.
- 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.
- 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.
- 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.
- 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!
- 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.
- 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.
- 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
They Softly Walk by Hugh Robert Orr
Beverly Cleary said “If you don’t see the book you want on the shelf, write it.” I didn’t see the book I wanted. I didn’t see the book I needed, so I decided to write it. It took years. I haven’t found an agent for A LOVELY WOMAN, but I won’t give up. There are many, many motherless daughters out there who need to know that they are not alone. There are grieving children, devastated dads, inexperienced teachers, hurting grandparents and concerned friends who desperately want to read as much as they can on grief and loss so that they may learn and grow through other people’s traumatic experiences. There are people struggling to cope with a profound loss who want to move forward and take healthy children along with them. Books help. Through shared experiences we can heal. It took me years to believe that I had a story worth sharing.
My mother died when I was 11. She got sick when I was very young. I was, and am, blessed to have a supportive, loving, devoted father who raised me with care and kindness. I didn’t however have any friends who lost their mother and so I felt very alone in this. I longed to meet another little girl whose mother had died. And I didn’t find these ‘friends’ in books either. I’ve always been a reader but it wasn’t until my twenties that I found a book on mother loss that I could relate to.
Since then I’ve discovered several wonderful books written by women about the death of their mothers. These books have meant the world to me. Each one is unique, every story so personal, but as human beings we relate to the emotions and what tugs at our heart strings. The ability of the author/character to push through the pain empowers us. We read on. I’ve put together a list of my favorite books on mother loss. All but one are non-fiction and memoir. My list is in no particular order but I will begin with the ‘mother’ of all motherless daughters books.
This book had a major impact on me. I hadn’t heard of MOTHERLESS DAUGHTERS until I moved to the USA in my late twenties and discovered the Portland Motherless Daughters group through meetup. The book deeply examines all aspects of mother loss and in reading it I immediately felt less alone. In amazement I read the shared experiences and feelings of other motherless daughters and learned that contrary to what I believed it is natural for a daughter to continue grieving for her mother. This was a breakthrough for me. Missing my mother was not only natural but also universal.
“When a mother dies, a daughter grieves. And then her life moves on. She does, thankfully, feel happiness again. But the missing her, the wanting her, the wishing she were still here – I will not lie to you, although you probably already know. That part never ends.” -Hope Edelman
I’m forever grateful to Hope for the time and love that she put into writing this book.
It has been six years since I read this book but what I remember most about it is 1. I loved it and couldn’t put it down. 2. It was the first fictional book I read, other than the gorgeous TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD, that featured a young motherless girl as the protagonist. I loved Lily and I related to her deep musings about her dead mother.
“My mother died…but if I brought it up, people would suddenly get interested in their hangnails and cuticles.”
“The bag contained a pair of white cotton gloves stained the color of age. When I pulled them out I thought, Her very hands were inside here.”
At times this book pierced my heart. How was it that Lily could articulate some of my exact thoughts? But this is what books do best. They generate feelings, enhance our lives and give us words for what we already know deep down inside.
WILD is a beautifully written book by author Cheryl Strayed who lives here in Portland, Oregon. Cheryl’s memoir addresses the themes of mother loss and grief, and the demons the author faces as a result of her mother’s death. I didn’t personally relate to the drug use or some of the ways in which Cheryl deals with her mother’s death, and the challenging Pacific Crest Trail hike is way out of my league, but I did relate to Cheryl’s pain. Everyone reacts differently in the face of grief and trauma and Cheryl’s gut-wrenching story drew me in with the first lines. I couldn’t put this memoir down.
“My mother used to say something that drove me nuts. There is a sunrise and a sunset every day and you can choose to be there for it. You can put yourself in the way of beauty.” -Cheryl Strayed
This book is filled with encouraging, beautiful quotes. I’m a huge fan of Cheryl Strayed.
In this intensely personal memoir, spot on with the grief a mother’s death brings, the author examines her own relationships and reactions to death. Meghan has a beautiful way with words and although the book is a tough read due to the heavy subject matter I highly recommend it to motherless daughters. Meghan addresses America’s lack of traditions and rituals around death and I related deeply to her writing on societal expectations on the grieving process.
“It is human to want our friends and family to recover from pain, to look for a silver lining – or so I reminded myself. But when people stop mentioning the dead person’s name to you, the silence can seem worse than the pain of hearing those familiar, beloved syllables.” -Meghan O’Rourke
This book is an important contribution to a culture struggling to confront death and deal with grief.
A raw, brutal and touching memoir about Claire’s struggle with life following the death of her beloved mother. Both of the author’s parents were diagnosed with cancer when she was fourteen. Claire takes us on a heartbreaking journey. Powerful and emotional it was Claire’s recounting of the suffering and subsequent death of her father towards the book’s end that really got me. I sat sobbing quietly in a local coffee shop, the book held close to my face, unable to cease my flow of tears. Claire is a talented writer with a bounty of wisdom to share.
“In all my years of grief, and in my years as a bereavement counselor, the single most powerful healing mechanism I’ve found is simple presence. The opportunity for a person to feel seen and heard in the middle of one of the loneliest experiences in their life can have a profound effect.” -Claire Bidwell Smith
Claire has experienced several losses in her life, including the death of her mother, her father and several close friends. These losses coupled with her profession as a grief counselor set her on the path to exploring the afterlife. In this book Claire takes us along with her as she works to understand grief and find ways to connect and stay connected with loved ones in the afterlife. Her exploratory journey is engrossing and thought-provoking and Claire’s findings were extremely comforting to me. I highly recommend this beautiful book. It left me with a strong sense of peace.
“If there’s one message that comes through more than any other, it’s this one. They want you to know they’re still here, they’re still connected to you. They want you to go on, to live your life. ” -Claire Bidwell Smith
This book drew me in from the very beginning. An engrossing memoir BLACKBIRD rocked me, crushed me and left me shaking and in awe. BLACKBIRD is a memoir about mother loss, grief, adoption, love and family. Jennifer uses the voice of the child to relate her story and I love that she does because I also use my child’s voice in my memoir A LOVELY WOMAN. I relate to the author’s confusion, acceptance and sorrow over her mother’s illness as portrayed when she was a little girl.
“Without Momma, it’s like being lost without a reason, and inside my body is an empty space that can’t get filled up.” -Jennifer Lauck
Jennifer suffers terribly and BLACKBIRD is a tough read for that reason. However, her story is a testimony to survival and one of the best memoirs I have ever read.
I loved this book which is made up of letters written by motherless daughters aged thirteen years and into their seventies. There are also many insightful offerings from Hope throughout. Motherless daughters share the same feelings and emotions, similar fears and anxieties and an intense loneliness for the mother we’ve lost. It’s comforting to read the stories of other women and young girls. We are not alone. This book helps remind us of that.
I’m currently reading Robin’s heart-wrenching book after recently learning about it on a Dear Sugar podcast. At about three quarters of the way in I’m completely taken with Robin’s story of love and loss. Bravely, this loving daughter shares her experience of three agonizing weeks leading to her mother’s death. Robin tells it as it is, and it is tough and scary to watch your mother’s health fail. Heavy reading sprinkled with humor this important book is thoroughly absorbing. Robin is a brilliant writer.
“We could get a cup of coffee. But who wants coffee? Who wants to see anyone in the outside world? The outside world has gotten increasingly foreign. People smile for no reason, purchase sugary snacks, worry over leaky roofs out loud to strangers. Who needs this?” -Robin Romm
10. THE KIDS ARE ALL RIGHT by The Welch family
Okay, this one is a little different. A compelling memoir told from the perspectives of four Welch children, orphaned in their youth after their wealthy father dies in a mysterious car accident, and their loving mother loses her battle with cancer. This is an authentic, heart-wrenching story of family, loss and grief.
“If his scent was still alive, how could he be dead?” -THE KIDS ARE ALL RIGHT
I know that there are other books written about mother loss out there, and many beautiful books about grief. I haven’t gotten to them yet, but I hope to someday. Please feel free to share your favorites in the comments section below. Books mean different things to different people. Determined and brave enough to share their valuable stories with us, I have the utmost respect for each of the authors above. It is my dream to publish A LOVELY WOMAN, my own story of mother loss, in the near future. Sharing our heart stories is not easy, but it is important. We can lift each other up with our words and find ourselves in the pages of someone else’s story.
“We read to know we’re not alone.”
― William Nicholson,
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.
March 2, 1988 my mother, Kathleen, died quietly in her bed as Dad sat watching over her. In bedrooms on either side of my parent’s room, my brother and I slept soundly, my aunt asleep in the bed next to mine. Just writing this, recalling the moment my mother took her last breath, has me choking back tears. I imagine my kind father, his heart tortured from years of watching my mother suffer and helping her however he could, realize that my mother has left us, forever.
Right now, this is the hardest thing for me. Knowing the loss my father suffered much too early in his married life. He didn’t deserve this blow. None of us did. Mam should have been allowed to live. She was one of the kindest, most thoughtful, nurturing and capable people I’ve ever had the chance to know. And I only knew her for eleven years.
Last August I attended the first ever Motherless Daughters Retreat with Hope Edelman and Claire Bidwell Smith whose books I have devoured and cherished. I had just finished reading Claire’s second book After This when I decided to look her up on social media. The timing was immaculate. The first post of hers that I saw was in reference to the Ojai Motherless Daughters Retreat and I really wanted to go. It was to be held in August and I was getting married in September. Preparing for our wedding without my mother was proving challenging. I was missing Mam in a whole new way. The prospect of spending a weekend with Hope, Claire and a group of motherless daughters who lost their mothers early in life comforted me. I was terribly disappointed to learn that the retreat was booked to capacity, but within days of contacting Hope there was a cancellation and after several others on the cancellation list had been contacted I was offered the spot. I literally jumped out of my office chair with joy.
The weekend I spent in Ojai with twenty three beautiful, strong, vibrant, inspiring ladies was truly a gift. Twenty four of us, from diverse backgrounds, arrived from across the USA, Canada and Australia. We sat together and shared our deeply personal stories of mother loss. We nodded, cried, laughed, sighed. We understood each other’s pain. Our stories were different, but the same. Our mothers were taken from us way too soon and we continue to miss them every single day.
What a powerful and comforting experience for me to be in a space with twenty four women who understood my grief, why some days were so hard and others so good. Why, after so many years, we still long for the mother who loved and cared for us as nobody else can. We worked through things together. We held space for each other. We talked and we listened. The most valuable piece of this experience, for me personally, is the sisterhood I gained. I found my tribe in Ojai. We continue to connect online regularly and when we’re feeling anxious, down or confused about something we have a safe place to share our thoughts. We celebrate happy times, like weddings and birthdays, and we hold a special place in our hearts for each other.
When I was in Ojai I saw a beautiful grey purse that I thought might be a nice addition on my wedding day. It was a little pricey so I didn’t purchase it. But after I left I was sorry I didn’t get it. Not only was the purse perfect for my gown, but I could carry a little piece of Ojai around with me on my special day. I rang the store and ordered it over the phone. On September 24 when I got married I had my Ojai purse with me all day. This purse was a reminder that out there in the world was a community of ladies who understood the challenges and delights this important day would bring. Their messages, sent on the morning of our wedding, meant so much.
And so, on the anniversary of my mother’s passing-I’m typing this around the time that she left our world- I feel a strong sense of community now that I have my Ojai sisters. I’ll share with them that today is my mother’s anniversary. They’ll know exactly what that means.
Growing up I didn’t know anyone who lost their mother early in life. I met some very special ladies in Portland, Oregon through the Motherless Daughters group and I remain close to some of them. It’s life-changing to have these connections. It’s necessary for healing to occur. There are others who will hold us and love us and be there for us, but the connection between motherless daughters is a special one. The heaviness in our hearts is truly shared. At least that is my experience. I’ve achieved this in my writing because motherless daughters have reached out to me with their stories. We need to build more bridges and connect with each other. It’s important to weave these invisible nets of love. Today I will hold space for Mam’s beautiful memory. I’ll hold space for my dad and my brother and eleven year old me. And grown up me, well, I’ll be okay. I’m surrounded by love and I can feel it.
My mother was born on February 18th. She’s not alive anymore but that special date, February 18th, whispers to me like a soft little hum in my ear all year round until February lands and I anticipate her birthday in all of its painful glory.
I asked Mam once what her favorite number was and she told me it was 18. So I know one of her favorite things. I don’t know her favorite color although I suspect it may have been a shade of purple, like lavender perhaps? I don’t know what her favorite food was or her favorite drink. I never asked her if she had a favorite book or a favorite friend? She had so many friends and was such a sweet person that I don’t think she would have admitted to having a favorite, but I’d like to hear her responses. I like the number 18 too. It’s probably my favorite number although before Mam told me hers, my favorite number was 8.
I was born in January, Mam’s birthday is in February and my dad’s birthday is in March. Three consecutive months of family birthdays beginning with mine at the very start of each new year. And we’ve been without Mam now since I was 11 years old. Yes, this time of year is trying for me emotionally.
Mam died in March, just three days before my dad’s birthday, and followed quickly by the hullabaloo of Mother’s Day which in Ireland, where I was born and raised, is celebrated a mere few weeks after the date she died.
Mam’s birthday and the anniversary of her death are quietly remembered by those who were closest to my mother. Dad and I call each other on those dates and some family members call my father on March 2nd which we appreciate. It’s a nice thing to do. But in the years since Mam died rarely does anybody else mention her to me on these sad but significant occasions. I understand that many people forget dates. People don’t want to bring it up, don’t want to upset me. But, guess what? I know what date it is and I’m well aware of what I’m missing. I haven’t forgotten. It is always nice to know that someone is thinking of you. To know that the person who meant the world to you is being thought of, that their death did not cancel out their memory, that your loss is recognized by those who love you is one of the greatest, most meaningful gifts you can give anybody.
Today, as always on Mam’s birthday, I’ll speak silently to her. I’ll wish her a happy birthday wherever she may be, and I’ll tell her I miss her and wish she hadn’t been taken from us so soon. This year I have a book written in her honor and it is ready to be sent out into the world when the time is right. I hope and pray that the time will soon be right. A LOVELY WOMAN is a story of mother loss. It is Mam’s story and my story, and it explores the universal experience of love, mother loss and grief. My memoir sheds light on early childhood anxiety and the ways we learn to cope and is a testament to family, resilience, compassion and truth-telling. I’ve poured my heart into this book.
Happy Birthday, Mam, wherever you are! You were born on this day many, many years ago and it is a special, wonderful, magical day. I’ll light a candle in your honor and browse through some photographs of us while sipping a cup of hot tea. Come sit with me while I browse? I have a feeling you will.
“No one is actually dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away…”