A Heavy Week Ahead: Grief, Love, and Motherhood

Some weeks carry more weight than others. And this one? It’s one of those weeks.

As I look ahead—school days, appointments, the usual swirl of responsibilities—I can feel it rising in my chest. That quiet heaviness, the kind that settles in slowly and makes everything feel just a bit harder to carry.

My mom’s birthday is this week. And so is Mother’s Day.

Even now, almost eighteen months later, these days still land like a wave. Sometimes, I can ride it. Other times, like this one, I feel it pulling me under before it even arrives. I miss her deeply. I miss her presence, her voice, her laugh. I miss being able to just be with her, no fanfare, no pressure.

Preparing for this week feels tender and complicated. I want to honor her, to let myself feel what needs to be felt—but I also want to stay present in the life I’m living now. It’s a strange tension, balancing the weight of grief with the chaos of everyday life.

This week, there’s no big celebration to plan. No crafts, no gifts, no elaborate traditions. Just space. Space to remember. Space to feel. Space to let whatever emotions come, come.

If you’re also navigating a bittersweet Mother’s Day, I’m with you. There’s no right way to do it. Just your way.

I’m giving myself permission to move slowly, to cry if I need to, to laugh if it feels good, and to hold the memory of my mom close without trying to tie it up in a neat little bow.

One breath at a time. One day at a time.