I still mother them….

How hard is it to just be kind?

Really kind. Not the fake kind people post online. Not the “thoughts and prayers” kind. I mean the real kind. The kind where you stop for a second and think maybe the person standing in front of you is barely holding it together.

How hard is it to be present?

To answer the call. To sit with somebody in the hard stuff. To listen instead of waiting for your turn to talk. To not make everything about yourself for five minutes.

As Mother’s Day gets closer, my skin and my soul feel as thin as onion skin lately. One minute I’m angry. The next minute I’m crying because I saw something that reminded me of my kids. A song. A smell. A stupid memory that came out of nowhere. Grief is weird like that. It sneaks up on you when you least expect it.

And maybe that’s why hurtful words hit harder right now too.

People have no idea what someone else is carrying. No idea how close somebody might already be to falling apart. One careless sentence. One cold response. One moment where somebody chooses cruelty over kindness can sit in a person’s chest for years.

I just don’t understand why kindness has become so rare.

Why is being gentle looked at like weakness? Why is checking in so hard? Why is being present for people so impossible these days?

Some of us are out here fighting battles every single day just trying to look normal in public.

So yeah… maybe this time of year makes me more emotional. Maybe grief makes my reactions bigger. Maybe my heart is just tired.

But I still believe kindness matters. I still believe showing up matters. And I still believe people remember how you made them feel long after they forget what you said. 🕯️