Mother’s Day Isn’t the Same for Everyone
Learning to carry grief, one year at a time
Mother’s Day is one of those holidays that carries a lot of emotion.
For some, it’s joyful—full of flowers, brunch reservations, handmade cards, and sweet phone calls.
But for others… it’s complicated.
And I think we need to talk about that.
Because not everyone is waking up to a “Happy Mother’s Day” text.
Not everyone is celebrating.
And not everyone even wants to get out of bed.
Where Mother’s Day Came From
Mother’s Day, as we know it today, was started by Anna Jarvis in the early 1900s. She wanted to honor her own mother—a woman who had spent her life serving others and strengthening her community.
It was meant to be personal.
Intentional.
Heartfelt.
Not commercial. Not performative.
In fact, Anna Jarvis later spent years fighting against what the holiday had become—because she believed it had lost its meaning.
And in a way… I think we’re still trying to find that meaning.
The Other Side of Mother’s Day
Because here’s the truth:
Mother’s Day can be incredibly painful.
Maybe you’ve lost your mom.
Maybe your relationship with her is strained or broken.
Maybe you never had the kind of mom others seem to celebrate.
Or maybe this is your first Mother’s Day without her.
And everything feels different.
If This Is Your First Mother’s Day Without Her
You might not want to do anything.
You might not want to celebrate.
You might not want to be around people.
You might not even want to get out of bed.
And I want you to hear this clearly:
That’s okay.
There is no “right way” to grieve.
There is no timeline you have to follow.
No expectation you have to meet.
If all you do today is breathe… you made it through the day.
And that counts.
If This Is Your Second or Third
You might start to realize something you didn’t expect:
You can survive this day.
It still hurts.
It still feels off.
But it doesn’t knock you down the way it did at first.
You might find yourself smiling at a memory… and then crying right after.
You might feel a little stronger—but also a little surprised by how much you still miss her.
That’s normal too.
Grief doesn’t disappear.
It just changes shape.
If It’s Been Years
Five years.
Ten years.
Maybe more.
You know now—you can make it through Mother’s Day.
But there’s something else that comes with time…
A bittersweet weight.
Because every year without her is also a year further away from her.
And at the same time… it’s a year filled with memories she didn’t get to be part of.
Milestones.
Moments.
Little things you wish you could share.
And somehow, those memories don’t make it easier.
They make it deeper.
This is my fourth Mother’s Day without my mom.
And the truth is… I miss her more with each passing year.
Not less.
More.
Because with every year that goes by, there are more moments she isn’t here for. More things I wish I could tell her. More memories I wish she could be part of.
But there’s something else I’ve learned along the way.
In the darkest moments of grief, I learned to seek the Lord in a way I never had before.
And what I’ve found is this:
He meets me there.
Not always by taking the pain away—but by placing the right people in my life at just the right time… in just the right season.
People who remind me of the very best parts of her.
Just a couple of weeks ago, I met a woman at my local county committee meeting.
She’s 77—the exact age my mom would have turned this June.
She’s tiny. Blonde. Loves Jesus with her whole heart. And she has this feisty little spirit that I felt drawn to immediately.
As we started talking, she shared that she became a widow four years ago.
And as she spoke… I realized I wasn’t just listening to her story.
I was watching my mom’s story unfold all over again.
I didn’t say anything that day.
But today, at a political rally, I helped her sign up to host a Biblical Citizenship class.
And as I walked her through it… I couldn’t hold back the tears.
Because in that moment, it hit me:
God’s timing is perfect.
Not always in the way we would choose.
But always through His lens.
As my husband and I head into this Mother’s Day, telling stories to our girls about the grandmothers they don’t get to know…
I’m reminded of something I didn’t understand early on in my grief:
God, in His goodness, brings people into our lives who reflect the very best of the ones we’ve lost.
Not to replace them.
But to remind us of what we were given.
And somehow… that makes the weight just a little more bearable.
What Do You Do With That?
This is the part no one really tells you.
You don’t “fix” it.
You don’t tie it up in a neat bow and move on.
You carry it.
But you learn how to carry it differently.
Maybe today looks like:
Sitting quietly with your memories
Looking through old pictures
Making one of her recipes
Talking about her with someone who knew her
Or just giving yourself permission to feel whatever comes up
And maybe it looks like doing nothing at all.
There’s no formula.
If Your Relationship Was Complicated
This part matters too.
Not everyone had a mother they can easily celebrate.
And that brings its own kind of grief.
Grief for what was.
Grief for what wasn’t.
Grief for what you wish it could have been.
If that’s you, I want to say this gently:
You are allowed to acknowledge the pain without pretending something was perfect when it wasn’t.
And you are allowed to define what this day means for you.
Maybe today isn’t about celebrating your mom.
Maybe it’s about:
Breaking cycles
Becoming the kind of parent you didn’t have
Or simply recognizing your own strength
That matters too.
A Different Way to See the Day
Maybe Mother’s Day doesn’t have to be one thing.
Maybe it can be:
A day to honor
A day to grieve
A day to remember
A day to rest
Or a mix of all of the above.
Final Thought
If today is heavy for you, you’re not alone.
If you feel okay one minute and overwhelmed the next, that’s normal.
If you’re still figuring out how to navigate this day… that’s okay too.
You don’t have to force joy.
You don’t have to meet expectations.
You don’t have to do it the way anyone else does.
Just take the day as it comes.
And if all you do is make it through…
That’s enough.






So good Toni, thank you. Six years ago I lost my sweet mama. To me, the kindest, gentlest soul I've ever met. I was so blessed to have her as my mom and I, like you, miss her more every day. It doesn't lessen, it just somehow becomes more bearable as time goes on. Moms are truly the good in your life that, once gone, is irreplaceable. So grateful she loved our Lord and prayed me into the fold. I'll see her again and that is what I try to dwell on.
With that, Happy Mother's Day to you, an incredible Mama who is doing it right. Enjoy the blessings of your amazing family today.