My mom and I, we didn’t always understand each other. We didn’t always get along.
But the love was always there.
My mom and I, we’re polar opposites. Two completely different sides of two completely different coins.
She has her feet on the ground like a magnificent oak tree. She’s practical, grounded and strong. She’s timeless, like a novel by Fitzgerald.
I’ve forever got my restless head in the clouds, fingertips dipped in stardust poetry spinning through space with wings made of words.
I sing to the wind and find strength in gossamer tears.
She moves with steady, tenderly confident beauty, like the earth after it rains.
Together, we are better than alone.
My mom and I, we didn’t always get along. We didn’t always understand each other. But we teach each other everything, just by being ourselves.
She teaches me about the emerald power of the earth, about the calming wisdom in roots.
I teach her about the cobalt wonder of the sky, about the sweet twinkle of sapphire stars.
She teaches me about the real, raw and practical. She teaches me how to face sh*t with grace, to touch my feet to the grassy ground, to be patient and take care of the pesky but necessary details of life.
I teach her about the simple joy of breathing, about not always having to be productive, about the juicy drippings of heart. I remind her to listen to the wild, gusty whispers of the wind and wander chaotically toward the hidden moonbeam doorways of her imagination.
Because my mom and I, we’re better together than alone.
And we might look different on the surface.
But underneath, we’re both fire inside. Raw fireworks. Intense women finding their way in the world. Two ladies learning how to speak out our truths.
There is no more special, enduring bond than that between mothers and daughters—no more sacred bond as women.
Let us honor that bond.
Today, yes—and every day.
Let’s burn brightly together.
And Mom, just yesterday, we chatted on the phone, being completely ourselves, laughing together joyously like the sun itself shone upon our mouths. I couldn’t have been happier to be your daughter.
I love you, Mom.
Thank you for being you.
Thank you for teaching me how to be a bada** woman.
Thank you for showing me how to never, ever give up—not ever.
Thank you for blessing the world with your strength.
Thank you for seeing me, as I am.
I see you too, in all of your soft, strong, grounded, curious glory
It’s an honor to be your daughter.
Thank you for being
My sweet, fierce, gentle, wise
Author: Sarah Harvey
Editor: Toby Israel
Photo: Donnie Ray Jones/Flickr