A Different Kind of Mother’s Day: Remembering the Ordinary Moments

I never know what to say to my kids on Mother’s Day.

This Sunday will be the 10th time we’ve “celebrated” the holiday since Kris died from pancreatic cancer.

As one might imagine, the first few years were especially hard. In some ways, it felt easier to ignore the holiday altogether. A few of us skipped church services because they would often have mothers stand and be recognized with flowers or chocolates. The reminder that Kris was gone was simply too painful.

The passage of time has helped, as has the fact that both grandmothers are still around. We recognize the influence they had in shaping Kris’s motherly skills and attributes, and how they’ve stepped in with “motherly” advice when needed.

Two of my girls have become mothers themselves. Becoming mothers has given them a deeper appreciation for the sacrifices, exhaustion, and love Kris poured into raising them. In many ways, the greatest tribute to Kris is seeing her daughters model the same love, traditions, and strengths they learned from her.

Thankfully, time has slowly turned our focus from Kris not being here to an appreciation for having had her in our lives for as long as we did. The memories of how she loved us and what she taught us now fill many of our Mother’s Day thoughts.

One of the greatest parental lessons I learned from Kris came on a random Tuesday night when our kids wanted to go to a late-night $5 Tuesday showing of one of the Hunger Games movies. She was exhausted, and I begged her to stay home. She finally looked at me and said, “Corey, I’m doing this for the memories with my girls. Who knows how many more times I’ll get to go to a movie with them?”

At the time, I thought she was simply talking about how quickly kids grow up. Looking back now, those words carry much more weight.

Over the years, I’ve realized Mother’s Day is less about flowers, cards, or finding the perfect words. For our family, it’s become a reminder not to take ordinary moments for granted.

A late-night movie.
A phone call.
A family dinner.
A tradition passed from one generation to another.

We rarely know which moments will someday become treasured memories. Kris understood that better than I did that Tuesday night years ago. I’m grateful she taught us.

For those who find Mother’s Day difficult for any reason, whether because of loss, distance, strained relationships, or grief, we hope you’ll find opportunities to build memories, offer grace, and appreciate the people around you while you still can.

Happy Mother’s Day to all!

Corey