On Mother's Day, I went to the beach, and it was one of those rare, clear May days where the sky is an endless blue and the ocean feels like it's breathing with you. Osprey soared overhead, their wings stretched wide against the sun, and seagulls danced and floated on the waves like they were celebrating something unseen. I knew exactly what it was. My mother always told me that when she passed, her spirit would be by the ocean—and yesterday, I felt her more vividly than I have in all the years since she left this world in 1989. There was something in the wind, in the light on the water, in the ease of the birds that made me feel held. Loved. Home. Even the seal in the ocean kept looking my way.
I spent the day with my brother Rick, who’s always been happiest with sand under his feet and the sound of waves nearby. We let the ocean do most of the talking. We walked, watched the birds, the seal, and let the salt air work its quiet magic. I think we both felt her there with us, laughing, watching over us, proud. Mother's Day can still ache, even after all these years, but yesterday it gave something back. It gave me peace.
To All the Mothers by Ocean Eversley 2025
I celebrate you—
the ones who rise before the sun,
hands already full of care,
who carry the world in quiet ways
even when there is no applaud.
To the mothers who speak soft truths
when the world is too loud,
who know when to hold on,
and when to let go
without bitterness, despite the fear.
You are the keepers of first songs—
of braided hair and whispered prayers,
of fierce love dressed in ordinary clothes:
grocery aisles, church pews, fragrant kitchens,
graduations, and bedtime doors left slightly open.
And to those who carry love
for children never held—
your grief is a language
the soul understands.
You mother in silence, and still, you mother.
I see you,
in every corner of this turning Earth—
strong, tired, radiant,
still offering light
even when the sky forgets to.
On this day, and every day,
I honor you with open hands,
with memory, with gratitude,
and with the promise to never forget
the mother who taught me how to love