Mother's Day Hits Different When You’re Supporting A Grieving Friend

Ten years and four kids into this motherhood gig and my outlook on Mother’s Day has been pretty much the same. Call me selfish (and maybe a little materialistic), but I have looked at this day as a ‘get out of responsibilities free’ card — a chance to spoil myself without the typical guilt that usually accompanies mom-centric decisions in this phase of life.

I usually start this Sunday in May with some high calorie (and f*cking delicious) extra large frosted (and sprinkled) donuts. I schedule a little self-care (think mani/pedi/massage) and treat myself to a little online shopping. I spend some time with my kids, usually on the sidelines of a lacrosse game or at the dinner table, and I end the day feeling happy and rejuvenated. It is light, a little self-centered, and easy.

But this year, things are different,a bit heavier. That’s because, for the past five months, I have been wading through the depths of grief with a good friend of mine who suddenly and unexpectedly lost her four-year-old son. And while I am not grieving the loss myself, I have learned that there is something wildly transformative about being in the presence of a grieving mother. It has changed me and my outlook on many things — Mother’s Day being one of them.

This day that just last year felt like a cute excuse to spoil myself, now feels more like a sacred day to appreciate the four gifts I have been given and a time to honor all the mothers before, after, and with me.

This year I have an acute awareness of everything that is at stake, and the power associated with this earthly motherhood journey. I have watched a mother sit at her toddler son’s grave, singing him to sleep with tears streaming down her face. I shared walks and coffee with a mother in the saddest moments I have ever seen first-hand

I have also witnessed the power of the mother-child connection. A bond so strong that it undoubtedly transcends this earthly space and lives on somewhere — everywhere — forever. In the ocean waves, the soaring eagles, the empty seats, and the warm air. It is tragic and soul-crushing — magical, and sacred. It is everything.

So this year, while I will likely still indulge in some frosted donuts and a little online shopping, I plan to very intentionally make space to honor the incredible journey of motherhood that I am so lucky to be a part of.

I will go outside and feel the air on my skin. I will walk around my neighborhood with my kids — paying attention to the swings of their arms and the sounds of their feet hitting the pavement. I will attend a Mother’s Day yoga class where I will move my body in unison with other mothers, as I quietly and thoughtfully offer them grace, love, and respect.

The most important thing I have learned in these past five months is that motherhood is a sport best played as a team — where we mourn, celebrate, and trudge through things together. Because as mothers, we have the power to understand and impact one another in magnificent ways, even on really dark days. And we do it all the time.

So, here’s to a heavier, but more meaningful Mother’s Day. May it crack me wide open and help me grow, and may it work to heal anyone who needs it, especially my wonderful friend.

Samm is an ex-lawyer and mom of four who swears a lot. Find her on Instagram @sammbdavidson.