🌷 Take Care of Your Mother’s Daughter (Borrowed Title)

A Love Letter for Daughters Missing Their Mothers and the Women Who Nurture Us All

My mother was, and still is, my rock.

If you didn’t know us, you might’ve thought I was an only child because I did all the “only child” things. Even at 21, with children of my own, I would curl up in her lap when I needed comfort. I’d lay my head on her lap when sadness hit. I called her countless times each week just to hear her voice. And yes, I even asked her to pat my back just because it soothed me. And she always did, without question.

May is always a complicated month. It holds both Mother’s Day and Memorial Day, and it carries the ache of deep remembrance for me. My mother passed away on May 29, 2000 which was Memorial Day weekend. This year marks 25 years without her, and while I’ve learned how to carry my grief, the weight never disappears.

In those early years, I created new traditions. Instead of focusing on her death in May, I celebrated her life on her birthday in February. As time passed and my healing deepened, those gatherings grew and shifted, and now, once again, I’m evolving.

This year, I’m holding space not just for myself, but for you. For every woman who has known the love, complexity, or absence of a mother. For every daughter navigating life with an ache in her chest. For every community caretaker, sister-friend, grandmother, or mother-figure who carries grief and gives love.

I invite you to join me for “The Power of Pause,” my inaugural post–Mother’s Day event, a gentle space for reflection, connection, and restoration. We will gather to breathe, feel, and be held in community.

Earlier today, I attended an online gathering called “Mother’s Day for Motherless Daughters,” and it moved me deeply. Nearly 400 women gathered virtually, sharing stories, tears, tools, and truths. One quote pierced my heart and stayed with me:

“Take care of your mother’s daughter.”

I don’t recall who said it, but it felt like it was meant for all of us.

So today, I say it to you: Take care of your mother’s daughter.
Speak kindly to yourself. Wrap your arms around your grief and joy.
Whether you had a beautiful bond with your mother, a complicated relationship, or none at all, your journey is valid, and you are loved.

And if your mother or any woman who’s nurtured you is still here, go hug her.
And give her one from me, too.

Sending Warm Hugs,

Stacie 

NOTE: This title was inspired by a phrase shared during the “Mother’s Day for Motherless Daughters” gathering. I may not remember who said it, but the words live in my heart—and now I pass them on to you.