So many of us are motherless mothers. It is a hard job being a mother and without a mom to guide us, it can feel so lonely. It can also feel like an open wound in a way. Seeing our children grow without knowing their grandmothers can feel like such a betrayal. Even if our mothers weren’t perfect, they were still ours. And we want them to know our children and for our children to know them.

When we become mothers, some of the broken heartedness we carry around with us every day can feel somewhat lessened. But it’s still there. And when our children get older and start asking about their grandmothers, it can feel like a blessing and a curse. It’s a blessing to talk about our mothers and a curse to have to explain how they died. Or why they died so young. Or how we’re sad. Or how we miss them desperately. Or we say nothing at all and cry to ourselves later in private.

That our children can make our wounds feel fresh is so confusing and difficult. But there is opportunity in it as well. To parent our children is to in a way, parent ourselves. And in parenting ourselves, we can find healing. Recovery. To parent ourselves, we bring our mothers with us, as so many women have before us. We know a lot more than we think we do. Our mothers bestowed us with gifts we weren’t aware of until we ourselves became mothers. And our moms are proud of us.