Mother's Day: A Really Tough One

This post is going to be a little different – today I am not going to discuss the walk, but of course will go back to it next week. Instead, because it is Mother's Day, I have found myself reflecting on what this day means to me. For most people, it's a day to celebrate and honour the woman who has supported and loved them unconditionally. But for me, it acts as a reminder of how much I miss my mum and how I will never be able to celebrate Mother’s Day with her again.

However, this year I am trying to look back with gratitude for the moments I shared with my mum rather than be sad and angry that she isn’t here anymore. Mother's Day has always been a day where Emilia and I would shower mum with the love that she deserved—flowers, cards, and a brunch or meal. It was always about making her feel special, a tiny way to say thank you for all she did for us. But now, it’s different. I cherish the 20 mother’s days I had with her, but I obviously can't help but feel the massive ache of her absence.

The thing about loss is that it never really goes away, but it does become a part of who you are. My grief is a constant reminder of the deep love I have for my mum, and I never want it to fade. It serves as a testament to how fortunate I was to have loved her so deeply and to have been loved by her too. So even though I miss her terribly, I don’t want the grief to disappear because that pain reflects the amazing relationship I had with her.

Mother’s Day is now a time for me to reflect on the lessons mum taught me and the love she gave me, and for the rest of my life I will do all I can to keep her legacy going. It’s a day where I celebrate the strength, kindness, and beauty that she had and how lucky I am that I get to call her mum.

But as much as I am trying to be positive today, there are also the really tough moments, when I’m alone and the reality hits. The realisation that I can’t pick up the phone and hear her voice. Or can never share life’s ups and downs with her. There’s something indescribably painful about knowing that I will never be able to have another conversation or hug again, no matter how much time passes. The weight of that loss is something I carry with me every second, and on a day like Mother’s Day, it can feel particularly heavy.

I have written this post for anyone who’s grieving, or who may not have the relationship they wish they had with their mum. I want to remind you that you’re not alone. Although it may sometimes feel that way.

This Mother’s Day, I have tried to do something a little different. Instead of focusing on the pain (which is a constant), I celebrated the most amazing person I will ever know. And I know that, even though she’s no longer here physically, my mum is always with me.

So happy Mother’s Day mum, I miss you more and more every day, particularly today.

With love,

Rhiannon