It wasn’t until my Mom died that I realized I had internalized her voice.
Have you ever seen Stranger Than Fiction with Will Ferrell and Emma Thompson? That’s what the first few years of grief felt like for me.
I talked about that experience on the first episode of Keep Grief Weird!
It was like she was narrating my life from somewhere just out of reach. Her voice was my internal compass. I miss when she used to be just a phone call away.
Sidenote: I also think I may have watched too much of this Steve Martin and Lily Tomlin movie, All of Me, as a child, and underestimated its impact.
I watched it in the past year, and it hits differently at 45.
We’ll talk about that some other time…
Bev had all these little sayings she used to repeat. She was clever, tender, and so wise, but also suuuuuuuuuuper repetitive. It’s no wonder her mom-isms are stuck in my head.
Immediately after she died, I started compiling them in my Notes app because I was desperate not to lose any part of her I had left.
They showed up when I needed comfort.
When I needed direction.
When I didn’t know how to keep going, but still had to.
They also showed up in weird things like thinking of her every time I made meatloaf…
Grief is weird like that.
One of the most important things she taught me was how to put my feelings to good use. So I did what she would’ve wanted me to do- I turned them into art. I spent 100 days hand-lettering her sayings and shared them on my Instagram.
Then I poured my energy into making a book out of them for myself and my family- 100 Things My Mom Used to Say. See above!
Here’s the cover:
From that collection of 100, I chose 12 of the sayings that help me channel her the most. I turned them into a set of illustrated postcards for my Etsy shop so I could share them with you.
The Mom Yourself Postcard Pack ✨
Twelve illustrated postcards. Pep talks. Reminders. Affirmations.
All rooted in my mom’s spirit, filtered through my grief, and written in my own handwriting.
These sayings are for the times I need to remember how to be kind to myself.
To give myself credit.
To keep perspective.
To remind myself that even in loss, there’s still beauty.
This Mom Yourself pack is for:
The motherless mothers.
The mothers mothering without a mother.
The ones who never had the kind of mom they needed.
The ones becoming the mom they wish they had.
The ones grieving a complicated relationship.
The ones who walked away for their own healing.
The ones redefining what motherhood means to them.
Stick one on your fridge.
Slip one into a journal.
Tape one to your bathroom mirror.
Send one to someone who’s deep in playing the caretaker role and needs to hear, “Who takes care of the caretaker?”
They’re more than just postcards. They’re love, on paper. They’re part of my mother’s legacy. They’re how I was able to make some meaning from my loss.
👉 Get your pack here
From her to me.
From me to you.
I hope you’re getting enough water and taking good care of yourself. You’re worth the effort.
(your internet mom-friend)
I love when you write about your mom, Tracy. I'm here in Arizona with my mom. She is blinged out with jewelry + approaching her 3rd year in hospice care. I'm cleaning out a few cabinets while I'm here. I found her eyebrow makeup palette. Two of them! I sent my sister a picture - one for each of us.
Trying to mom myself hard this week + remember, Donna Beth, in all her incarnations as my mother, friend + confidant.
xo
Amazing 😍 the story behind the cards is the best part ♥️