Mom,

To say you are my rock would be the understatement of the century.

You are no simple stone.

You are my fortress, my safe place, my walls against the siege of everyday life.

You are no simple stone.

You are the garden in which I can whisper the secret longings of my soul, where I pour my pities and flowers grow– where I sing dreams, you give butterfly wings.

You are no simple stone.

You are the family room: the comfortable place to lay my head after a day that just won’t seem to end– the warmth of soft blankets around my shoulders– the laughter of quiet conversations over coffee cups.

You are no simple stone.

You are the kitchen, where dancing turns even the most miserable of tasks into joy. The place where my spirit is fed just as much as my body– the place where the everyday ordinariness of potatoes might just become a delectable dish.

You are no simple stone.

Mom– You make this world home.

Mom,

I still stand by the last message I sent you in that I truly hope you’re happy wherever you are. Whatever you find yourself doing, even if you’re still with him I love you regardless of your choices.

We have a house now and I started writing again. I’m not too bad at it as you predicted and I know you’d be proud. No kids from us yet and I think that'll be our fate without them, but the cats are still tearing shit up like they are still young.

Maybe one day the vacant seat at our dinner table will find warmth in your presence and we will laugh about how silly our disagreement once was. I hope this message floats upon a digital ocean until one day it may beach itself into your feed.

and I hope you’re still fighting against the world with the same tenacity you taught me.

With love from your son,

—Eriabis (Chris Sadhill)

Dear Mother,

The marks of ink I'm writing inside this card resemble, to me - or perhaps represent - the feeling of shivers down my spine when I hear the word "mom." The words now scratching across paper, tearing new thoughts into the realm of our consciousness, but I'm not writing anything we don't both already know. This holiday is like Monday morning for me, when you wake up and think - I have time to sleep in! But it's just a dream, a happy one, until you wake up and realize the mistake you made. There's no going back to Sunday.

I wish it could be reparable. I almost called you today, instead of writing this mistake of a letter, which I know you will - if not already - tear to shreds, just like you did with me and every decision I ever made. But sometimes, people can't be forgiven. Maybe that's all you are to me - a person.

I recently read "Acid for the Children", a memoir by one of the members of the band "The Red Hot Chili Peppers." In it, this band member says when he would see his mother as an adult, backstage - he's done it! He's famous, sweating and happy! Accomplished! - they would shake hands, nothing less, nothing more. I think of you, how we exchange pleasantries four times a year at most, and I think of how at least shaking hands is touching someone, having that respect for someone.

I look at all the girls posting pictures of their mothers today to social media, and I throw up in my mouth. I know - just from those stupid, useless posts - that it is bitterness, like the back wash of vomit, that resides as our reality in my mouth, gross and uncomfortable, and I know that because one time I made myself throw up and you made fun of me for it.

The word "mother" fails here, where my scraggly words across this page don't add up, don't amount to actual feeling, respect.

I could go on, but I'm tired. For once, let's make this about me, and not you, your residue, your laugh when I needed a hug.

Sincerely yours,

A

She had forgotten it was Mother’s Day.

She doesn’t like being pampered, much preferring being the person doing the pampering. Yet, I knew she was soft. I knew her inside out.

She has no mother. Her biological one left her and her stepmother wants nothing to do with her. Her mother-in-law is well-intentioned, but it’s not the same.

The greatest gift I could give was the chance to be what she never had. She has one daughter, one chance. I try, but I continually mess it up. Thankfully, God has eternal chances for those who truly try.

The only thing I had was a sheet of white construction paper. I googled instructions on how to make an origami paper heart, having never done that successfully before.

On its competition, it was beautiful: perfect, clean, pure—like the heart of an angel. She deserved no less.

There was a little rectangular piece on the back formulated from all the folding, and on this I wrote the following haiku:

“Precious loving friend

Mother you mean everything

Always there for me”

I placed this card by her bedside.

I know it's been sixteen years since your passing, but the pain is always there. The pain of missing you. The pain of not being able to just pick up the phone and calling you just to say hi. The pain of not having my advisor when I need advice or someone to just say that I'm making the right decision. The pain of not hearing your voice, seeing your face, or hearing your laugh. The pain of loving you and you not being there. The pain of not being able to honor you and celebrate you on this special day...the pain of not having my mother.

Happy Mother's Day to the best mother in the world. I miss and love you so much.

Thank you for loving me unconditionally and being supportive of me through all things. Thank you for your example of walking in faith consistently no matter the trial. Thank you for showing me how to be caring and compassionate and to treat others as I would want to be treated. You truly were the most amazing example of a person who accepts others without judgment and lends a hand, shoulder or ear when needed - I really appreciate that as it has served me well on my path. Thank you for showing me what a good mother is through all things. I really appreciate you telling me, "Don't ever say my child would not do that"....saved me from eating some crow! I am so sorry for the stress I placed upon you....ohhhh those teenage years....You left us far too soon and you are missed daily. I do catch myself making an expression or gesture and in that moment it will remind me of you - I know it's a gift letting me know you are always with me. I miss your laugh and hugs. I still have your Revlon Creamy Ivory compact that when I open to this day - it still smells like it did all those years ago. You are loved, appreciated and so missed. Happy Mother's Day....

The family tree branches ferns

And further connect all

Genealogically turns

Womb to navel to cord to caul

Looking up that tree

And its forked reiterations

Next in line, I see

My genetic causation

For you are the step before

I sprouted therefrom

It is you I adore

Engineered my out-come

Mother's Day celebrates

A calendar recursive

When homunculi gestate

Until newborns abdicate

Rising to the heavens

Our family tree spread out so

Because you birthed again

Delightedly in afterglow

Dear Mom,

Happy Mothers Day! You've always been the light of my world, and I could never be where I am without you. You would keep me in line, but would also take down your stern mask and show me the caring mother that I've always loved. You know when I need your help, or just simply need someone to talk to, but you also know when I'm overreacting and when I just need to think positively. You keep me away from distractions, and make sure I focus on my education. It means so much to me that you're trying to give me the best life possible. Over the past 13 years of my life, you've taught me that chasing money my entire life is a complete waste. From you I've learned that as long as I'm a humble and good person, I have accomplished in life. Rudyard Kipling stated that "God could not be everywhere, and therefore he made mothers." You have always been there for me, during the times where I needed a shoulder to cry on, and when I needed someone to cheer me on. You are the most understandable mother to ever exist, and I seriously could never imagine my life without you.

Dear mother, you'll always be the light of our home.

Happy Mothers Day.

Sincerely,

Your loving daughter.

My grandmother is the greatest gift life gave me. Her beauty is absolute and anyone who sees her immediately notices her beauty. But I am not talking about beauty based on society’s beauty standards. I am not talking about beauty from the way she dresses. Although don’t get me wrong, she has both of those things as well. But no, her beauty is more than that. Her beauty radiates from the inside. Her beauty comes from an energy that anyone who sees her immediately feels a wave of peace. Her beauty is one that makes her hugs feel like home and her voice cures your problems. My grandma is the greatest gift that life has given me. The most perfect human that could ever exist on this planet is my grandma and best friend and I could not be more grateful for that.