Mother’s day hit hard this year, more than I expected.

I lost my mom back in 2007, so spending this day without her isn’t new. Over the years, I found my own quiet way of honoring her. Every Mother’s Day, I’d buy her favorite Calla Lilies and place them in my apartment. It became my thing, a way of saying, I haven’t forgotten. You still matter.

Then I’d carry on with the day as usual. Not out of denial, but because that gentle acknowledgment was enough. It let me keep moving. It gave me peace. And for a long time, that worked.

But this Mothering Sunday felt different.

Heavier. Emptier. Like something was missing from a space that was already marked by loss.

Another Loss, Just as Deep

Since the passing of my mom, I became close to my aunt (her younger sister). You could say she filled the gap that was left, and we had a bond that wasn’t simply aunt and nephew. She was my go-to and someone that I not only looked up to but respected a great deal.

She treated my daughter as if she were her granddaughter, and I loved that about her. Sadly, she passed away last December (2023), and I know I am still in the grieving process as it has only been five months. It’s like I am going through the whole loss of a mother again, and it’s a process I didn’t expect or think I would ever have to repeat.

Grateful and Grieving

If there’s any silver lining, it’s this: I’ve been mothered by two incredible women. That’s not lost on me. I know how lucky I am. But knowing that and feeling that are two very different things, especially when neither of them are here anymore.

Going through life can be hard on a normal day. Doing it without their guidance, without their voices, warmth, and reality checks, makes it that much harder.

She Taught Me Tender Strength

Aunt Lisa was there when I lost my mom. She helped carry me through it. She was the very things I needed most as I stepped into fatherhood: strength without hardness. Compassion without pity. She gave advice that stuck with me and love that I needed most. She wasn’t afraid to call me out, but she did it with that love. And she built that same kind of bond with my daughter, too. She became the mother I lost. And I miss her more than I can say.

Keeping Their Stories Alive

I know I’m not alone and that there are many people in similar situations as I find myself to be. All I can try to do is keep telling full and memorable stories about both my mom and aunt, two loving Irish women, in the hopes that who they were to me can shine through and make other people smile and feel how much of an impact they both had on my life.