05/10/2026
There is so much joy in this life I get to live being the mother of two beautiful boys, getting to hold them, guide them, love them in all the ways I once needed myself. That part feels full of warmth and gratitude.
But underneath that joy, there is also grief. The kind that doesn’t always announce itself loudly, but quietly lives in the corners of the day.
Mother’s Day has a way of waking up the little girl inside of me who spent years hoping that one day the broken pieces between my mother and I might somehow become whole. And with her passing into ancestorhood, there is a finality to that grief that can still catch me off guard. A realization that the reconciliation I imagined for so many years will never happen in the way I once dreamed it would.
When I sit with the yoga teaching of balancing strength and ease, I find myself remembering that strength is not pretending the grief isn’t there. Strength is allowing myself to hold both love and loss at the same time. Ease is letting go of the fight to rewrite the past and instead softening into what is.
Maybe healing isn’t about getting the ending we hoped for. Maybe sometimes healing is becoming the love we needed.
So today I honor all of it.
The joy.
The ache.
The mother I am.
The daughter I was.
And the quiet practice of learning to hold them both with compassion.
