Last month, my mom and I were flying to an event where I was speaking. As I told her about some exciting things happening with Momastery, Together Rising, and my book—she seemed quieter than usual. I asked her what was wrong and her eyes got watery. She said, Oh, it’s nothing, honey. It’s silly. What? I said. Her voice quivered as she said, Oh, it’s just that you and your sister are doing such world-changing, important work. I’m so proud of you. Sometimes I wish I’d done something important, something world-changing—so you two could be as proud of me as I am of you. So that when you introduced to me to the crowds you speak to, you could say, I’d like to introduce you to my mom, she wrote this book or started this company or something important like that. I don’t know.
I was stunned. And so I held her hand but I did not know what to say.
I know what to say now.
Mama. You never taught me to care about the crowd, so let’s forget about them for a moment. Instead, please allow me to re-introduce you to yourself.
There you are, Mama. Top row, there in the middle. You were born to Alice, a nurse and William, a surgeon. You were the second in a line of seven children. You shared your home (and one shower) with five sisters and two brothers. You were the caretaker and resident goody-goody. You rebelled by hiding in the closet to practice conjugating Spanish verbs in peace. Aunt Rosie told me: “I looked up to Patti. I was in awe of Patti. She always made me feel safe, wanted and loved. I could depend on her. She was fun, a bit mischievous, a bit daring. But mostly she was very responsible. Patti was and still is my rock. My go-to person. I trust her completely. She is full of generosity, love, tenderness, and wisdom.”
You went off to high school and were wildly popular, the head cheerleader and homecoming queen. But what people in your neighborhood remember of you is not your crown but your kindness. I found your old neighbor, Jane. Jane lived across from you on Sixth Street. She told me: “What made Patti so special as a teenager was that she was so pretty that she didn’t really have to be nice—she could have just gotten by on her looks. But she was more than just pretty. I always felt that she not only acknowledged my presence, but really saw that I was there. She always said hello and really waited to hear the answer that came back. It made me feel good.”
After college, you decided to leave your small Ohio town and set off on your own. You moved to Virginia and became a Spanish teacher and then a guidance counselor. You cared for every student as if she were your own. Remember Cindy, mama? Cindy comes to every event of mine within thirty miles of her home, because of you. Cindy told me, “Your mom listened with her eyes. I could look at her as I would pour my emotions and know she was there WITH me in THAT moment. That was love. That love makes me cry as I sit here thinking about that time in my life with my injured heart. That was her gift for all of us students in a hard place.”
You met my dad at the school where you were both teaching. He was the football coach. I’d give all the money in my account for a chance to witness the moment you met.
You’ve been married for 42 years now, Mom. I was driving dad’s truck the other day and I found your high school picture taped inside his sun visor. When I asked him about it, Dad said: “Her face reminds me not to lose my cool. To be kind. Having her close makes me better.” Yes, I know what you mean, I said.
I took this pic driving away from you two the other day. My babies were in the car. Remember? And we were all watching you and thinking: Huh. That must be what marriage looks like after forty years.
You and dad had two baby girls, Sister and me. You gave us yourself and then you gave us each other. You gave me my baby sister, Mama. It was just the four of us. Dad and his girls. Nothing else mattered. We were a team, even when—especially when—things got hard.
We’ve had lots of hard times, haven’t we, Mama? Remember when I was still drinking and I was so sick, and Craig and I came and told you that I was pregnant? Remember how afraid you were for us? Do you remember the first thing you said to us, Mom? You looked me right in the eye and after everything my addiction had put our family through you said: Glennon, you don’t have to marry him. We can raise this baby together. I was stunned by your immediate courage. You are never too tired to love me, Mom. And you are never too afraid to believe in me. Craig and I did get married and I did get sober but you kept your promise anyway.
Remember when Sister told us she was moving to Rwanda to help save those little girls? And remember how every bone in your body was screaming NO and how you wished you’d never taught her to be so brave or care so much? Do you remember what you said? I do. You said: Go, honey. Do what you need to do. And remember how every night between the time you gave your blessing and the time she left, you knitted her that beautiful blanket—all purples and greens—your fingers furiously moving, night after night, so she’d have a reminder that even an ocean between you couldn’t stop you from loving her?
And then this past year, Mama. This year your best friend, your mama, died. And you took her hand and even though both of you were shaking, you walked her home. They told you to hire a crew but you and your sisters and brothers said: No thank you. We will learn this. She cared for us and changed us and dressed us and prayed with us and rocked us to sleep and now it’s our turn. Our mother helped us live and we will help her die. And so you moved back to Ohio and you and your brothers and sisters spent months sleeping on the floor next to her bed. Waking five times a night to shift her body, giving her medicine for her pain, bathing her, curling her hair each morning, dressing her and picking out her jewelry with such great love, as if each morning she was preparing to meet the queen. For almost six months you left Alice Flaherty only once, to fly to Sister and meet your fifth grandchild—Alice Flaherty—because life goes on, even when life ends. And you held your granddaughter Alice and remembered that when your work with Alice was done, another Alice would be waiting. Because your work is never done, Mama. We need you so much. All the time, every day. We thought we’d need you less as we got older but we need you more.
And when Grandma died, your grief was so deep and so relentless that it scared me, Mama. What I learned watching you grieve for Grandma—watching the Steady One shake is: You are just human. I couldn’t believe it, Mom. I think this is the moment a woman truly appreciates her mother for the first time—when she watches Her Rock cry and she suddenly understands: this woman has loved us this fiercely, this steadily, this completely all of these decades—and she is only a human being? Is that, then—what is also expected of me?
Yes, you said. In your grief and with all your humanness you gave Grandma’s eulogy. You stood up at her service and you told the story and the legacy of your best friend. You did her justice, Mama. You were so brave and tender and beautiful. You stood tall and strong and your voice did not waver and you honored her. You told us with your posture, your voice, your presence: Daughters, Our love must be greater than our grief. Sister and I sat in the pew holding hands and we understood, Mama. Nothing, not fear, not fatigue, not deep, deep despair can keep us from showing up for our people. Love often means doing the hardest thing, the impossible thing. We understand. There is always something more important than your feelings, and that is your family.
And then two months later you were here, in Florida, with me, trying to heal and recover when you got the call that Aunt Debi found a lump, and that it was cancer. You must have been so afraid and so tired. But you did not consult your exhaustion or your pain or your fear. You just started packing. I watched you pack, Mama. And as you zipped up your suitcase once again I learned that Sisters answer the phone and then they start packing. You went to Debi and you sat by her bed. You changed her bandages and you cried and laughed with her—and so Debi was afraid and she was in pain but she was not alone in her fear and pain. Her sister was by her side.
Debi said: “To me, Patti is the matriarch of our family. She shared my tears, she shared my fears but she would comfort me and tell me we would get through this. She was by my side ready to help me with whatever I needed done. She got up with me at least 3 times during the night, prepared and cooked meals, drove me to my doctor’s appointments. I can’t thank her enough, but the times I do, it is with my whole heart, which is filled with joy because of my sister, Patti.”
Do you think I will forget watching you pack and go? And as a result: do you think I will ever, for one second leave Sister alone? Your youngest daughter will never be alone, mama. Because I will answer the phone when she calls and then I will start packing. I understand, Mama.
And then you came back to Florida and spent this past winter with us. Remember when we were trying to decide how to help you heal and I asked you what your dream would be? A cruise around the world? A trip to Paris? You said: “I don’t have a single dream other than being with you. I don’t want to see the world, I just want to be with my grand babies. You guys are my world. Being with you is what I need to heal.” And so you came and you were with my babies every single day and it was the best winter we’ve ever had. I watched them with you for months. Do you remember what you kept saying to Amma each night as you taught her to knit? I was listening from the dining room, Mom, and you were saying: “Just try honey. Don’t worry at all. If you mess up we will fix it together and begin again.”
That’s why I’m out there taking risks, Mama. Because you taught me that if I fail, so what? I can come home to you and you will look at me and your eyes will always say: You are my dream come true. Who cares what else you are? Who cares?
Not me.
Mama,
Were you afraid, for a moment on the plane that day, that you’d been so busy loving your people that you forgot to do something important?
Because what I’ve learned from you is that there isn’t a damn thing more important than loving your people.
Do you wish you’d written a book? A book? Mama, your love has written the entire world of our family into existence. The characters in your story are bold and brave because your love made them that way. Our plot line is love and courage and hope and steadfastness. Our family is a beautiful story, Mama—and the hero of our story is you. You are the hero. You are the one. You created this family and you watch over it and tend to it and delight in it and you are the closest I’ve ever come to seeing God, Mama.
And here is the moral of your story: You taught us that what matters is love, and that love is relentlessly showing up for your people.
And so Sister and I will take care of each other forever. When the phone rings, we’ll answer it, and we’ll start packing. We will sleep on the floor and we will pick out jewelry and we will walk our people home. We will sit with our grand babies and we will teach them everything we know. Everything we know is what you taught us. We’ll give the eulogies, Mama. Even if we’re shaking, we’ll give the eulogies.
And we will always remember that the most world-changing work we can do is this: We can live in a way so that our children will be able to say, Not one moment of my life did I wonder if I was adored. Never, ever did I feel alone. And they will pass it on. They will answer the phone. They will start packing. They will know that when your people are hurting, you go. You show up. Again and again forever. That is family. That is love. That is your legacy. Your legacy is that none of your people will be alone. Not ever. Because you made that rule for us, and then you lived it. We just don’t know any different.
Well done, Mom. The story you wrote is my favorite of all time. A better story simply doesn’t exist.
Happy Heroes Day, Mama.
Author of the #1 New York Times Bestseller LOVE WARRIOR — ORDER HERE
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241 Comments
This is probably the most beautiful tribute I have ever read. As I “celebrate” my first Mothers’ Day without my mom, I am so deeply touched because you have articulated that caring for your family–which is what my mom did, too–is a treasured calling.
So your mom wrote me such a nice email about the small sentences I contributed to your beautiful post honoring her. I was reading my email while waiting for the bus. I decided to read the post before I wrote back to your mom. So now I am on the bus doing that ugly crying… Where your nose runs all over and your rosacea turns your face beat red, and you’re not so much sniffing as snorting and the bus driver looks in the rear view mirror in times square and asks over the loud speaker if you need help. I said no, just some kleenex. And lots of people gave me kleenex. Which is good because I have quite the jag going on up in here right now. It’s a beautiful tribute to your mom Glennon. Just so beautiful.
Jane your post made me laugh! So lovely that people gave you kleenex. Thank you for sharing!
Your story touched me so much as I wait for Mother’s Day for the first time with no mother here to celebrate with me. Both my mother and mother-in-law were very similar to your mom. I miss them so much. Both of them raised their families with that sense of love and loyalty to not only immediate family, but extended family as well. They were women grounded in faith and they passed on to us and their grandchildren. I pray the tradition will continue through the years.
This may be my favorite article you have ever written, and that is saying something.
So beautiful. Gave me all the good chills. Made me so proud of my mom.
Your story touched me! I wish i could still have my mother here! Miss her alot!
Today was a hard day. Today, I sat in the evaluation room and watched as my mother, my rock, struggled to think of a word that started with the letter “a.” Today, I was exhausted because just yesterday we worked late into the night with the local police to find my sweet mama and my beautiful baby girl because somehow she found the keys and wanted to take her granddaughter to get a treat but just couldn’t find her way back home. But today, I was there for my mama. This beautiful teacher and giver and mender of so many needs me now. I will be her rock. Thank you for your magnificent words, and for helping me to remember who my mother will always be, even if she can’t remember it for herself anymore.
Beautiful.
Gorgeous.
This is beautiful and powerful, Glennon. What a blessing your momma is.
This is such a beautiful story , it so reminds me of my mom and our family and it’s such a great reminder that to love each other and being there for them is the most important thing in life .
Thank you for sharing your story and filling my heart with love .
Kathy
G- I cried almost all the way through this… My mom is like your mom. She keeps showing up and loving her people every day. I can only hope to be as amazing as her to my own.
Thanks for this amazing tribute.
You could have warned me I would need tissues … such a beautiful read… such an amazing gift….
This is pretty much the most beautiful thing I have ever read. I aspire to be like your mama. 🙂
I would write more but I am crying too hard! Ditto.
I have been lost in thoughts of my Mom this week, who passed when I was only 16. It’s been 41 years. Your post reminded me again of how amazing my own Mom was…and I sit here smiling through my tears. My sister and I always show up for each other, and for each other’s children, because that’s Mom’s legacy. I miss her, but was reminded again by your beautiful words that she’s still here in my actions and deeds. Thanks Glennon.
Perfect, G! Loved the post and the pics. And this, this really got me, “But you did not consult your exhaustion or your pain or your fear.” I so needed that one line. Blessings to you, and your mother, and Sister on Mother’s Day!
Just beautiful! So thankful for your gift with words, as they so often give life to the feelings of my heart.
WOW…yes Glennon…you described your mom beautifully…and all of us that know and love her AGREE !!! she is LOVE !! and you and mandy learned it and are living it…which is the biggest gift to her !!
So beautiful and moving. You illustrate how the “normal” people of life, who spend lives caring for others are most vital. Fame and fortune are fleeting, but love is forever.
Glennon,
I don’t think I’ve ever read anything quite so moving.
There is NOTHING like really showing someone what all the little moves, decisions, acts of their life have meant to you. Your mother’s legacy is one FAR greater than any mere CEO, diplomat, or author!!!
How blessed we are!
and wo, again. Have caught a glimpse of what I’d love my family to become, there for each other no matter what. Love what you write and your Mum is awesome x
Wo
Wow. Just WOW. Absolutely Stunningly Beautifully Written. Glennon your words inspire me every day. I want to be like u. U love w/all of your heart SOUL your everything. I’m trying to emulate u in that way. Thank you for inspirin me!!!!
This is absolutely beautiful! What a tribute to your Mother and your entire family. God has blessed you all and how wonderful that you are blessing everyone around you. Thank you for sharing this! Happy Mothers Day!!
Oh my goodness…I should NOT have read this at work 7.5 months pregnant!!! I can’t stop crying. This is beautiful, G. God Bless your Mama and you, too. My hope as I become a Mom for the first time in mere weeks is that I can have some of the same strength, courage, kindness, and vulnerability that you and your family do. You are a wonderful inspiration! Happy Hero’s Day to you both.
So beautiful G! Tears here too.
A big THANK YOU to your mom!
She has done so much and she has brought us you and Sister.
And her story still has many chapters left in it.
I’m looking forward to a guest blog post by your mama some day, I know we could all benefit from her wisdom and her stories.
Sending love and appreciation. <3
I think your mom is my hero. The whole time I was reading this I was thinking, “I want to be like her. Yes, that is exactly what I’ve always wanted to be.”
Just crying..
Holy crap that was good. I may have just cried all my makeup off. I’m a stay-at-home mom who has been feeling very….unimpressive. Your inspiring mama just reminded me that as a mother I have a high calling. The highest, really.
It sounds like your mother has much in common with mine, who has found her place among the angels now. I have often weeped in profound grief for the world, with the knowledge it had lost its most beautiful soul. Glennon, I find sweet comfort in knowing that your incredible mama is here holding down the fort. Thank you. My mother’s name was Joy. She was a humble secretary, unmatched in her Great Love, Tender Kindness and Boundless Compassion. Mom was nothing short of an extraordinary creation of God. I suspect that had she met yours they would have become the best of friends.
It is my deepest conviction that Unconditional Love is the only legacy worth leaving behind. Bless your family and the story of Divine Love all your important lives pen for the benefit of humankind. Give your magnificent mother a hug from me, and squeeze tight. 😉
She created amazing people- and there is nothing on this Earth more pride-worthy than that! 🙂
oh. my. goodness. YOU are her book, Glennon. And the entire world is reading it and AMAZED by it.
Your mom was my Spanish teacher! George C Marshall high school 1970-1974? I remember her running around the room with a football and talking in Spanish about Joe Namath-she always had a thing for football players!
Yup, she did, thank God.
Bubba
I’m only half way through this and on my 8th tissue!!!
G,
Please Please Please tell your mama that her example goes beyond her biological family, and spills out into the world. I hope and pray that my daughter feels as loved, accepted, cherished, and safe as you do with your mama. God bless her, and thank you for sharing her with us <3
This was the most beautiful tribute to your Mom. I feel like I know her, because she is just like my Mom. We have a history of walking our loved ones home also. As far back as I can remember, my Grandma was there for each of her 10 children, caring for each of them in childhood, and 5 of them who passed away before she did, taking care of them to the end. My Mom walked her home, as I’m now doing with Mom, and I have no doubt that my daughters will do the same for me when the time comes. What a legacy we leave behind. Happy Mothers day to you and your Mom.
so, so beautiful…the love of your family spreads to so many, thank you!
I am crying so hard I can’t stop. This was one of the most beautiful things I have ever read. Heart changing, thank you xoxo
I am crying so hard I can’t stop. This was one of the most beautiful things I have ever read. Heart changing…thank you xoxo
Thank you,G. Your story of your momma found a matching vibration in my heart. Ever since my daddy died in 1990 and my momma in 1991, I have missed my parents. So deeply at times I could hardly bear it. You have reminded me of the joy I had in being their child, and I will endeavor to live in that joy again!
Powerfully beautifully written! Please don’t ever stop writing, your articles are simply wonderful and touch me deeply.
No words can describe how much this touched me today! Thank you for honoring every mom out there wondering if she’s enough…
This is beautiful – no, brutiful! – because I’m sitting here taking breaks between reading so i don’t cry all over my desk 🙂
Thank you for sharing – love your writing!
Weeping. What a beautiful tribute to a truly amazing mother and woman. I have a new hero and role model today, in Patti. Thank you, Glennon, for sharing her story with us.
Oh G, I should’ve known better than to read this at work. I’m still a little weepy.
Oh Glennon, this post! I sobbed so hard right at my desk. This is a beautiful tribute to your mom. She has always treated all of the us with this type of love and kindness. It’s been such a hard year for our family with losing Billy and Grandma and Debi getting sick but we are still there for each other. I am so grateful to be part of something so real and true. I am so grateful to have wonderful examples of love and selflessness all round me.
Thank you for writing it and sharing the class, grace and beauty that is Patti. Beautiful pictures too. The pregnant picture looks exactly like Mandy.
I’ve never seen that picture from homecoming with Grandpa. I love it.
As a stay-at-home mama of teenagers, I spend a lot of time trying to keep my husband and kids from knowing what a waste I feel my education was, how I’ve squandered my life. And then you write this – “there isn’t a damn thing more important than loving your people.” I’d like to write that in the next “occupation” box I have to fill out. Occupation – Lover of my people.
This is so spectacular. What an incredible tribute. Patti, I agree with your daughter with all my heart… you have achieved it all and truly changed the world through the legacy of love you’ve built. I hope for nothing in this life more than for my children to think this of me. No award, degree, medal, or bank account is more important than what’s described here.
Damn it. This made me get so filled with tears at my desk that I had to close my office door and pretend to be on a call. I’m not even sure why… if I’m thinking of my own mom, or just hoping that I can be that mom to my 7 year-old. Also, she did the most important work… In basketball (and I guess all sports), the unsung heroes are the ones with the “assists” – the guys who make the baskets get the glory, but the ones who set it all up are the ones who make it all possible. Sounds to me like your mom is great at assists – she set up you and Sister to do great things… so, really, she’s HAS written books, and she Together Rising belongs to HER. SHE made it all possible.
also sitting at my laptop at work weeping and smiling and thinking well done! My Mom has been gone for 7 years…I walked her home and I miss her everyday…
I wish I had a mother like this. or a father. Or anyone really that loved me this much.
But I promise my children will NEVER have my same wish, they will always know they are loved, they are my dream come true!
I am so happy for you and your family Glennon, what a precious gift.
With no examples of my own to go off of, I fly by the seat of my pants often, but I look to those who got it right for guidance when I can. My MIL, my husbands grandmother, my grandmother, the amazing woman I nannied for for 5 years. Its helped me so much, and I pray I am giving my babies all of this. Thank you for writing this and giving all of us without a mama like yours, a compass. I worry all the time that I have been so busy loving my people that my children will not have that sucessful business woman role model in me, but I am reminded by this that what I give them is important, and it matters. I will never ever stop loving them relentlessly.
Here Here Sister!
I could have written every word of your reply, right down to the nanny job.
I am with you and we are blessed to have Glennon
Carmel, yes she absolutely is! Im so sorry that you know what I mean, but it sounds like your children are blessed.
I thought I had cried all my tears at my son’s wedding this past weekend but that was not the case. This was the most beautiful tribute to a mother I have ever read. What a gift you are to her and what a gift she has been to you and others. Thank you for putting these words out there and sharing her with us. Happy Heroes Day to you, too.
Choking back tears reading this. Irrationally, I find myself jealous of the family you have around you-and that’s not okay is it?!! Every single one of the pictures you shared just oozes grace, love and peace. All my life I have found myself craving that kind of a relationship with my Mom-but those cravings never got me anywhere. Our Mom just wasn’t that way. Not nurturing or loving-more likely to kick you out of the nest when she thought you were ready, but never checking with you to see if YOU were. Me and my siblings had a hard, hard time growing up in that house. We are all grown ups now, and this past year I had to do what your Momma did with my oldest sister who was the one that filled that Momma role for me. I held her hand and tried to take care of her and watched her go home to the Lord on March 19th. It was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. I stand in awe of your Momma and I offer up thanks to the lord that he blessed you with her and with the clearly amazing family you have around you. I look at my son and I know, unequivocally, I want to be the kind of Momma that yours has been for you. Nothing will ever sway me from that conviction, but it sure is good to see a reminder of this every now and again. Your post was one of those “smack you upside the head reminders” 🙂 Thank you for this. You never cease to amaze me and this post took my breath away. Your Momma takes my breath away too! Please tell her that! Happy Mother’s Day to you, G. God broke the mold when he made you <3
This is one case, I think, where what you’re calling jealousy might just be the bone-deep realization that YOU DESERVE that kind of love. Maybe your Mom can’t give it to you here, now, but that doesn’t affect the simple, straightforward fact that you are worthy of it. My Mom is more like G’s mom, and I try to reflect the light she gives me, but YOU, K, are making your own light. Wow. Way more impressive. Way brighter. Like the sun itself is burning, consuming itself, running on its own steam. Little moons like me are in awe of you! You are doing it all yourself. You are a star.
::: sitting at my laptop, at work, weeping :::
::: and clapping, and cheering, and YELLING, “well done!” :::
THIS is a blog for the ages and one to be shared over and over and over.
xo
Most gorgeous post ever. EVER.
You put my thoughts and feeling about my own mother into words that I didn’t know how to express. Just beautiful.
Dear G,
You have a way with words that literally takes my breath and plenty of tears away (in such a good way).
Thank you for sharing. Gratefully,
Love always wins. My sister and I, hand in hand, walked my mom home just months ago. Our first mother’s day without her. I can imagine my mom saying the exact same thing as your mom, that she didn’t do anything important. But oh did she! Thank you for this gift to all of us, and for letting your mom know TODAY just what a gift she is to you!
Beautiful Glennon. Those of us with mom’s like this are so very blessed, mine was the same, never a doubt my sister and I and then her grand kids were the light of her life. Miss her everyday. Your mom is lucky that you express yourself so beautifully. After reading this she should never again question the importance of the work she has done. Well done and Happy Mother’s Day to you both!
Your Mother, my dear sorority sister, is filled with love, grace and laughter. I treasure her friendship beyond words. At each of our annual “girls” gathering, we LOVE talking about our children and their little peeps. That’s what we’ve created, you know. A circle of love.
I am WEEPING at my desk reading this. I was so worried, all week, about what to get my mom for Mother’s Day. She never wants anything material. I know now. I will write her a letter as open and loving and kind as this one. I will let her know how much she has taught me. Thank you, Glennon, for always opening your heart and letting us all in (and letting so much love pour out).
Beautiful – just beautiful!
You and Sister (and your lovely children) are your mother’s Maximum Opus. She has written you very well!
Wow. It took me an hour to read this because I had to stop so many times and sob and pull it together to keep reading. This is so beautiful. I wish I was lucky enough to know you and your mom. There is nothing “bigger” or more important in the world than this.
You’ve inspired me to write a letter to my Mom for Mother’s Day that tells our story. I can’t think of a better gift to give than telling her how huge her love is to me.
A beautiful tribute for your wonderful Mama.
I hope I have been that kind of Mama to my boys.
wow
Trying not to cry in my office, so needed this today as we get ready to move my dad into hospice. Trying to let love win over grief.
Wow. Tears. Beautiful testament to motherhood. I’m a mother to 2 young adult children who seem determined to do everything the hard way. I’m a grandmother helping to raise a stunning 5 y.o. boy who is literally my sunshine. Finally, I am the only child left to help care for my 88 y.o. mother who is living with Parkinson’s disease. I start each day dropping the five year old at PreK on my way to work and end it at the skilled nursing facility visiting and sitting with my mother. There are days I am just wiped out from it all. But “showing up for my people”…that’s what’s important to me. You, this, has reaffirmed for me just how important it is. Thanks for sharing.
WOW! Speechless… this is THE most beautiful thing that I’ve EVER read. Definitely my favorite post of all time! What a gift you have all been to each other.
Weeping.
Thank you for sharing your Mama with us today, G.
Please tell her I think she’s a super hero, too.
Much love
xoxo
Oh my goodness – I couldn’t love this more… thank you.
Why did I read this before class? Now I have to go teach with my mascara all streaked. Love, love, love you all!
A finer tribute hasn’t been written…thank you, Glennon. God bless your mama, my mama, and all our mamas! May we follow their example and love fiercely and tenderly, like love warriors!
G – God bless you for sharing your gift of words with your Monkees. God bless your mother for teaching you life’s most important lessons. Moms everywhere are hoping our kids will see us the way you and Sister see your Mama. Happy Mother’s Day to Mama, you and Sister.
Thanks for my first cry of the day! Your mama is incredible and so are you. Love you all!
I second what Pam said, stories like these need a warning, “Disclaimer: Tears Ahead” would work just fine. Gorgeous writing, as always. Sobbing at my desk (awkwardly pretending it’s “just allergies”), as always.
Simply beautiful.
This is the very best thing I have ever read that you have written. Sitting here at work, I think of my mom, my children, both. Good stuff Glennon. Nice work Glennon’s mom.
You write so so beautifully. Now i am starting my day with tears rolling down my face. But that’s not a bad way to start ! Thank you for this today, it is very very relevant. x
It’s a good thing I didn’t put on mascara this morning. Glennon, everything you write touches something in me, this is no exception. My mom has gone on before me, but if I could write her a love letter for this Mother’s Day, I could hope it was this beautiful, honest, and loving. And now I need to go blow my nose and figure out how to look like I haven’t been crying…got a meeting in 5 minutes. (((HUGS)))
Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous. Beautiful Patti, beautiful G, beautiful stories you both are writing…
“We thought we’d need you less as we got older but we need you more.” I lost my Mama to cancer two years ago and I can’t tell you how much this rings true. It is the hardest part of raising my little girl that I can’t turn to my Mama. What a wonderful tribute to yours.
I should have known better than to read this in a public place. I am now crying in a coffee shop 🙂 Beautifully written, Glennon! Mothers make the world go round, and yours sounds especially amazing!
I choked up reading this.. thank you for sharing. Now to clean up this face before my coworkers think I’m a lunatic. Thank you again.
Tears. Flowing tears, here at my desk at work. Thank you for saying what we all want to say. And for honoring your mother in such a special way.
I have been struggling lately with my relationship, or lack thereof, with my own Mama. I love her dearly but she is struggling with her own life choices which has caused her to not be there for me and that hurts. So this touching tribute to your beautiful Mama had me in tears.
I’m sorry. I am right there with you. I was in tears because I would give anything to be close to my mother.
Ok, now I am just bawling my eyes out, that was simply amazing.
G,
How do you do that? How do you know how to take all those words and
put them together and make me cry, cry and cry my heart out? So touching, so true and so eloquently written. And you know what? My Mother is like yours–so full of love, courage and strength that it often takes my breath away. We are so blessed. Thank you as always for being you!
Happy Mothers Day!
P.S. Come to Pittsburgh Pennsylvania sometime soon please!
C
This is amazingly beautiful & what I thought my Mom was & my sister & I could be…maybe it’s still possible, someday.
I cried, thank you- that’s a beautiful tribute to your mom & motherhood. I hope one day my son can say that or something like it about me.
May all of us Mamas live up to that kind of an example.
G, thank you for writing this and sharing it with us.
Puddle of tears over here. I love your mama too now. How awesome that you honored her in such a way that she can know your love for her now. Too often we wait until the eulogy to express our love and outpouring.
Let’s give it up for mama! Hooray! What a legacy. I hope I can leave footprints like hers. 🙂
That is amazing- I’m sitting here in my kitchen crying! Thanks Glennon (and Tisha) for reminding us of what’s important.
holy crap. i’m a bumbling, bubbling fool in my office right now. thank you for writing the story of your mom, of all of our moms. my mom has six sisters, i have two. i was, am, the addict. all of this is true. sister had a baby, single mom, the day we found out my grandma was ill. watched my momma and her sisters with such grace tend to their mother in her final days, and now their dad as he makes his way home. watched them bury their youngest sister, lost to our disease. nothing makes my momma happier than her people, who now spends her days raising more of her people. she is the most beautiful of women, and yes. like you said, the closest to god i’ve ever known. this is your story, her story, g. but thank you for helping us tell our stories, and their stories, better. xo
“Let me re-introduce you to yourself.” I cried all the way through that. What a beautiful tribute to the woman who helped mold you into such a lovely, sensitive soul. Thank you for sharing that sweetness for those of us who sometimes feel we are not having a big enough, a good enough, impact in the world.
I’m absolutely drowning in my tears. Happy Mother’s Day to your mother, and to all of the women out there who take care of their people.
They have an expression for writing and living like this in South Africa – “Snot en Trane” – which literally translated means, “Snot and Tears.” Because all of that reading this beautiful love letter. Happy Heroes Day to all the mamas indeed! What a gift to get this from a daughter and to know you are writing the best story together. Just gorgeous.
Your Mama is a superstar indeed.
Well it’s just not a DAY unless I’m sitting in a Starbucks crying over a Glennon post! This struck such a chord – as we go out into the world striving to make our mark, may we always remember that our stories are enough. That our love is our legacy. Bravo, Mama.
You should warn us about stories like this, that cause the tears to flow and the heart to melt and the love to come through the page… You are blessed in your mother. Thank you for sharing her with us like this. <3
I am in the process of planning my parent’s 40th anniversary party and have been thinking of a special way to honor them. I think they both deserve a story like this to document their accomplishments in a way that can only be done through the eyes of their children. Thanks, G.