Love is often complicated

Remembering a very happy Father’s Day in 2019, With my grandson and my parents

Lots of people find Father’s Day and Mother’s Day to be contrived, as the holidays were created for commercial opportunity. After all, they contend, every day should be a day to think about and express love to our parents.

And while I appreciate that the greeting card and gift sales, and restaurant meals consumed to note the day, can be a turn-off for some, I find it lovely to set aside two special days to really focus on one’s parents.

Much like a birthday celebration, putting someone you love in the spotlight feels wonderful. And it makes them feel wonderful. What’s the downside to making these joy-filled, love-filled days?

And it can be complicated…

Mother’s Day this year tugged at my heart. While I was delighted to be the focus of loving attention from my family — including a special brunch on a sunny patio with my children and my two precious grandchildren joyfully dashing around, this was the first Mother’s Day since I lost my mother in August.

I longed for the sweet days of years past, when I’d call her, send flowers and gifts, and tell her how much I loved her. The last time I got to do that was on Zoom last year.

As you can imagine, Father’s Day on Sunday was especially dear for me. Having just returned home from a second hospitalization in just a few weeks, my dad is slowly recuperating.

We drove to Philadelphia for the weekend and I was so grateful to be with him. The fact that Father’s Day fell on the weekend we were visiting made it even more special.

I treasure my father. I treasure having had this time with him in person, and surrounding him with love. It was a treat for both of us.

And yes, we brought him a big bouquet of flowers on Sunday morning, that I hope will brighten his days and remind him, for many days to come, of how much we all love him.

Today is also my mother’s birthday

My mother would have been 92 today. A year ago she was quite ill, and her birthday was celebrated on Zoom. She was happy that we could “be together” virtually. The flowers and gifts we’d sent were there. It was the best we could do.

Today my heart is sore. I hear her voice, but only in my memory of it. And I am doing my best to stay focused on celebrating her life.

My dad and I have a date for a Zoom dinner together, to reminisce and share stories about her magic. He loves to tell me about how he was smitten by her from the first moment he saw her, how beautiful she was, and how much he loved their 70 years together.

I am focused on savoring the joy

I realized this morning that it was Father’s Day two years ago that my parents were in Boston with us, just a month after the birth of my granddaughter — their second great-grandchild.

They were both vibrantly healthy and filled with delight to meet Aria and be with all of us.

I cherish these sweet memories, and so many more. I savor the joy of my weekend visit with my father. All of the precious times I hold in my heart serve as a counterbalance to the sadness at losing my mother, and the concerns I have as I watch my father slowly rebuild his strength and health.

We need to feel it all

It’s great to feel happy. It is hard to grieve, to long, to feel worry or pain.

Many people push away the hard emotions, which is understandable. But we need to feel it all.

Feeling the emotions connects us to our heart. And spending some time there can open us up.

One great path to moving through the hard emotions (and elevating great ones) is to use the emotion as “fuel” for something creative.

For me that is often writing or making art. For others it can be time digging in a garden, or moving to music, or playing an instrument, or making something with their hands.

Today I will cook something my mother loved to make, as cooking was one of her favorite ways to create — she was renowned for the food she lovingly prepared and served on gorgeous tables for family and friends.

And I have a date to create with a small group of artists with whom I have met regularly for over a decade. It feels perfect that our time together fell on my mother’s birthday, as my mother was a great artist in addition to a great cook.

I invite you to express yourself in a creative way any time you have emotions to transform or elevate. Maybe you’ll decide to do that today — our emotions are always there to one degree or another, always ready to be put to use in a creative way.

If you have never tried it, give it a go. It always works for me.

Stay safe and well, and keep creating.

My mother’s lessons for all of us

If you read the email I sent to my subscribers last week, you know that I lost my mother, Doris Berenholz, on August 21.

While this has been a very hard and very sad week, it has also been eye opening in many ways.

I was enormously fortunate to have had my mother in my life for over 6 decades. She was 91 years old, and lived a full and rich life. And I am deeply grateful that my father is not only alive, but in good health. Not many people are so fortunate.

And, as much as I thought I knew what this week would bring, and thought that I knew my parents, I have learned so much that has deeply touched me.

Unexpected surprises

Because of COVID, we had a very small graveside funeral for my mother. As much as I missed being with more family and friends, the beautiful intimacy at the service, and in our time spent that afternoon in my sister's magical garden, was truly special. Dear cousins flew and drove to be with us, as did my son and his wife, despite the challenges of travel. And while we could not embrace, we held each other close in our hearts in a way that was remarkable. I hope that my mother's spirit could sense the love we all have for her, and the bonds of love between us.

I am a big believe in the power of love, but even I never expected it to be so palpably felt in this circumstance.

Also because of COVID, we were not able to welcome friends for shiva during the week. Zoom shivas have been going on for months, but this was the first time I was a mourner in such circumstances.

And there were gifts.

We were “with” family and friends from all over the world. That would never have been possible in “normal” times.

I was also able to see and hear from people who loved my mother, who I did not know, or had not seen in decades. One by one, they shared their remembrances of her — much of which I would likely have missed in a crowded room.

We leave a bigger legacy than we know

The most wonderful — and eye-opening — thing that happened, amidst the grief, was hearing so much, from so many people, about how my mother impacted their lives.

My mother touched people in so many lasting ways that I had never realized.

And much of what I did know and appreciate about her was described in ways that expanded and magnified the significance of her gifts.

Her generosity and her facility at starting — and maintaining — friendships was recounted in stories and with details I’d never heard.

She taught so many people meaningful things about cooking, art, and the ways that beauty enriches your life, that have impacted people’s entire lives. And her 70-year love affair with my father was noted as being a model for several marriages.

My mother helped people with advice about great ways to make their kitchens more efficient. She arranged people’s bookshelves with such beauty that they learned how to do the same elsewhere. She even sketched a guest house for cousins in France, that was built just as she drew it! She planned the interior, too, and that has made it a special, cherished place.

More than a few friends of mine and my sisters said they had always wanted to be the “the fourth Berenholz daughter” and live with my family. My mother was the person a number of teenage girls came to when they felt misunderstood by their parents. They also talked about all they learned from her, about art, food,  and surrounding yourself with beauty. One became an artist after my mother gave her an easel and oil paints. (All three of Mom’s daughters are artists, too.)

Girl Scouts from the troop she led in the 60’s talked about and sent us notes filled with stories. Her hikes and camping trips and love of nature, the work she had us do with orphans and foster children, and the ways she inspired each of them to follow their paths, changed their lives. She was less interested in having her scouts work toward merit badges; she cared about so much more than that.

What we can all learn from my mother

I do not think my mother had any idea of what an enormous legacy she left in the world. She was simply focused on all that she cared about: people, relationships, art, music, beauty, fine cooking, hospitality, nature, travel, social justice, and love.

The inspiration we can all take from her is to live a life that is true to who we are, and to savor each day. To share all of our gifts, and share them with a full heart. To love, and love more.

If we emulate her, when our time comes to an end, people will pour out stories about how we enriched their lives.

The ripple effect of a life well-lived, a life of love and generosity, is incalculable.

I am so grateful for all she taught me, and all the love she spread in the world.

What’s the legacy you want to create?

I can see how my mother’s influence played a huge role in bringing me to the woman I am today, doing the work I do in the world. I will be reflecting on this even more deeply in the days and weeks ahead.

If my mother’s story has prompted you to think more deeply about the life you want to life, and the legacy you want to leave, I invite you to spend some quiet time writing and exploring what emerges.

And if you would like to talk about the future you want to create, and how to get there, I invite you to schedule a Live Big Breakthrough Call with me.

I would be honored to help you gain insight and clarity about what you want, the changes you are seeking to make, and what may be limiting you. 

I look forward to hearing from you.

Stay safe and well, and keep creating.