Invariably it comes up at some point in the first 8 weeks. The realization that we get to be our own nurturing mother to our scared self. Often we cared for others over ourselves; and now is the time to be selfish (and understand that is not a negative thing—far from it, it is the airplane metaphor of the necessity to “put on our personal air mask first”).

That is an intense self awareness moment. Healing and forgiving are all part of the pain and joy of our often complicated family dynamics. I am not in a position to do anything but listen and acknowledge it as energy.

My Mom wanted more than anything to be a grandmother. She did get to meet her first of seven grandkids but she also wanted to go on her terms. She got both wishes. In a way, that was my first big lesson in knowing that I am not in control. Her decision. Her life. Her way. My Mom died in what felt like three days. Because it was three days from time diagnosed to the time she passed. I was 31 with a one year old. She was 59. She didn’t want to go, but she also was very clear she wanted to go on her terms. She did. It didn’t make sense to me or my father or my siblings as we wanted her to fight more/better for more time with us, but she did not want to burden us and it made sense to her to let go. Who am I to argue her destiny, her timing, her decision.

That doesn’t mean it made sense to me or was easy. I miss her a lot. I grieve her passing every time I see a ladybug or she has an earth or spiritual birthday come and go.

Our relationships with our mothers play a very important role in our lives and are fully unique. During these holidays and quiet times, these feelings can come up and seem overwhelming. I invite you to let me hold space and be a witness for you – schedule a remote session and we can explore and find grounding together.