In Honor of Mothers Who Save Our Lives

For some of us, our mothers are our soul mates, the loves of our lives. We cannot be separated from them for long periods of time. We are so connected to them that we finish each other’s sentences and say out loud what the other person is thinking. I feel fused to my mother. I feel as though we are one.

The truth is that when I lost my father, I found my mother. Growing up, I considered myself a daddy’s girl. In my eyes, he could do no wrong, and one stern word from him would make my eyes well with tears. I wanted his love, approval, and attention, and I received all of it. I was also close to my mother but, when my father died, our relationship deepened and became so much richer.

The years of his absence have been defined by this flourishing relationship with my mother. We’ve shared heartbreak and grief. We’ve created a little world of our own, filled with inside jokes and special routines. We have salvaged joy and humor and love from the terrible ruins of the past eight years. We've saved each other every single day with a hug or a smile or a joke.

Our love is a testament to my father. It is what he gave us and what we carry on.

For me, a mother is so much more than a parent or guardian. Most people my age, who are in their early twenties, are leaving home, seeking to escape the stifling small towns of their childhoods and the rules of their parents. Instead, I am staying home because the only place I want to be is with my mother. There is nothing more that I want. I want only her.