Mother’s Day was hard this year, and I didn’t realize that it would actually be as hard as I found it.

I lost my mom back in 2007, so, for me, grief and spending Mother’s Day without my mom hasn’t been something new. Since the loss of her, I have always bought her favorite Calla Lily flowers and placed them in my apartment. It became a tradition for me. My way of bringing in the day quietly but with a nod that the day still mattered. I would then go about my day as normal, and for a really long time, that worked for me until this Mothering Sunday.

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 transcended 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.

In a way, I find it very fortunate that I have been mothered by two incredible women, and I know how lucky that makes me. But to also know that I no longer have either of them in my life is hard. Maneuvering through life can be difficult for anyone on any given day, but doing so without the guidance that you became so accustomed to and cherished makes it that little more so.

“She taught me what tender strength and compassion look like.”

My aunt Lisa was there for me when I lost my own mother. She taught me what tender strength and compassion look like—something I needed when I became a father. She would be the person who told me what I needed to hear, not what I wanted to hear, and she was never slow in telling me off when I needed it. And it wasn’t just myself that she had an important bond with, but with my daughter too. She wasn’t just an aunt to me; she in fact became the mother figure that I lost, and I miss her a great deal.

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 commit to is that I will continue telling full and authentic 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.