Mother's Day 2025

Here's to another year of navigating Mother's Day without my mom.

Today is commencement at the university I work at, which just so happened to land on Mother’s Day this year. It is one of the few events I'm voluntold to be a lead. So, here I am, awake at 4 AM, getting ready to head over to Fenway Park for a 12 hour+ work day.

Up until now, I've had control over what holidays, Mother's Day, and death anniversaries look like. I'm annoyed that the choice has been taken away from me today, much like many others in my life. Yeah, it's pretty cool I get to run around Fenway, but honestly, I want nothing more than to mope in bed and hide from the world.

The endless amount of Mother's Day advertising campaigns don’t help either. Thanks for the reminder, Venmo, I can't send my mom money for a gift. No, Trader Joe’s, I will not be buying a bouquet for my mom. Someone from my grief support group back home suggested that companies should have an option to opt-out of those emails and ads, which I totally agree with. Not everyone has a parental figure in general.

My grief has felt heavy these past couple of days. It's always there, but occasionally it forces its presence to be acknowledged. My grief is multifaceted. When one thing is inflamed, they all rise from their dormancy, whether it's my adoption or losses I've experienced in various forms. It's difficult to not feel like the world is crashing down on me all at once.

This past week, I watched Nonnas on Netflix, which is a feel-good movie that covers themes related to grief, legacy, and family. When the main character Joey lost his mom, which is the beginning of the story, I grieved alongside him. It got me thinking about my mom. I hope I'm making her proud.

Yesterday, I coordinated a graduation reception where one student speaker spoke so highly of her mother, their deep connection, and how she’s her “why.” Through her anecdote, she reminded me of what I’ve lost. It felt like a punch to the gut, but I had to hold it together as I was responsible for advancing the program slides.

I cried on the car ride home at the memory of visiting my mom in the hospital before her death. Once she was back there for the last time, I sobbed every time I was about leave, expressing how I was scared. There’s nothing like the fear, sadness, and anticipatory grief of not knowing when it’s the final time you’ll ever see someone.

Overall, I'm just angry and sad that I don't get to have my mom here. I think I have a habit of displacing my anger onto people and situations so I have a tangible reason to be mad. There’s this furiosity that exists inside me that I don’t think most people understand — an intense resentment and bitterness that will never go away.

Today, so many students will be lucky enough to have their mothers in the crowd to witness their accomplishment. Meanwhile, my heart will be with students who have their moms cheering them on from the clouds rather than the stadium seats, like I did. And, I hope those who have lost their mothers are taking care of themselves today and celebrating their moms in ways that feel right.

My high school graduation || June 20, 2019