A Million Gifts of Motherhood
Reflecting on the spirit of motherhood and the journey between mothers and daughters
There is no way to be a perfect mother, and a million ways to be a good one.
-Jill Churchill
I woke up early this morning with the memory of an old photo of my mom and me taken on my wedding day. We were standing in my childhood home, smiling softy into the camera, moments before we’d head out the door.
Why that photo, I thought? It was taken almost thirty years ago and so much has happened in the years between then and now.
The time had come for me to leave home, and in some ways, to leave the relationship that had anchored me for so long. She walked me down the isle that day, telling me to be strong as I tearfully let go of her to take my husband’s hand.
It felt surreal, that day. A blur of picture-perfect moments mixed with bittersweet tears, smiles and goodbyes echoing the same message - a chapter was closing and a new one about to begin.
The Ebb and Flow of Motherhood
In the years that followed, both my mom and I shifted and evolved in different ways. She learned to adapt to life without children living in her home. She got a dog and made new friends, potters in her garden, and enjoys doing things she never could before. While her life evolved with new hobbies and interests, newfound freedoms and experiences, so did mine.
In the ebb and flow of motherhood, we both learned about releasing and letting go. We came to understand that life needs to keep moving on and so do we.
We’d reconnect on weekend visits, family celebrations, and catch up over the phone. I’d ask about a recipe of hers I was keen to try, and she’d share updates on her garden or relay a chat she’d had with a neighbour or a visitor who stopped by.
As much as my life moved away from hers, her imprint remains and shows up in the most unexpected ways. I notice her face reflecting back at me when I look in the mirror these days. I see her hands in the wrinkles of mine and hear her voice echo in my laugh. I recall her peeling potatoes or kneading dough in her kitchen, when I move around in mine.
Although we now live thousands of miles apart, she’s still so much a part of who I am today. I’m slowly realising that even when she’s gone, it will always be that way.
Perhaps the photo of us taken all those years ago came to mind this morning, because today is Mother’s Day.
As my mind drifts from that photo and appreciation for my mom, I think about my daughters and what being a mother means to me. They’re both young women now, eagerly pursuing their dreams and goals, looking forward to moving on to their new chapters soon.
I thought about if, or when, they become mothers someday, what I’d want to say. I hope they’ll love their children unconditionally, patiently, and wholeheartedly. And when the time comes to let their children go, I hope they do so softly and gently as I’d like to think my mother did all those years ago.
In the bittersweet dance of motherhood, I've come to understand that the relationship between mothers and daughters can be deeply rewarding, and equally complex. That's because there’s no perfection in motherhood.
The key is to find the balance between forgiveness and grace. If the bond between you can grow to become secure, you can bridge the gap to come together in deeper and higher ways.
To everyone who commemorates motherhood today or in any other way, I hope you observe the many ways motherhood has shaped you to love unconditionally, wholeheartedly, and imperfectly. These are just a few of the qualities wrapped up in the million gifts of motherhood.
Happy Mothers’ day.