You're the grown-up now.

You're the one raising the children, making the decisions, filling out the forms, scheduling the appointments and somehow being expected to know where everybody's missing shoes are.

But becoming the grown-up doesn't necessarily mean you stop needing one.

In this episode of The Motherless Mother, I'm reflecting on one of the quieter realities of motherhood after losing your mother: being the person your children look to for answers while still wishing you could turn around and ask your own mother, What do you think?

My mother had her mother for most of her adult life. I don't have that anymore.

But I've also discovered that family hierarchies are funny things—especially when you have aunties who aren't entirely convinced you're grown.

This week, one of mine decided I'd been home long enough and needed a job. She found one she thought I should apply for, sent me the email address for my résumé...and then called to tell me to apply.

No consultation required.

Very much something my mother would have done. 😂

And somewhere in that wildly unsolicited career management was a reminder: we can be somebody's grown-up and still miss our own.

In this episode:

• What it feels like to become the grown-up after losing your mother
• Why our children may mistake our decision-making for certainty
• Missing the person you still want to ask, “What would you do?”
• The aunties and older women who remind us we're still somebody's daughter
• Why being capable doesn't mean we stop needing care
• Faith, uncertainty and learning where to take the questions

Maybe being the grown-up isn't the same thing as no longer needing one.

And maybe our mothers didn't have everything figured out either. Maybe they simply loved us enough to keep figuring it out.

If this episode made you think of another motherless mother, send it to her.

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Follow or subscribe so a new episode finds you every Tuesday.

The Motherless Mother — Because motherhood makes you miss your mother in new ways.

You are still her daughter.

When I was 19, my mother was 46.

Back then, 46 sounded middle-aged to me. Grown grown. Surely by that age, you knew who you were, had life figured out and had done most of the becoming.

Now I’m 46.

And apparently, 19-year-old me had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.

In this episode of The Motherless Mother Podcast, I look back at the woman my mother, Lillian, was at 46—and at how different my own life looks at the very same age. She had three older children and had been married for 25 years. I have an eight-year-old, a five-year-old, and I'm still figuring out motherhood, marriage, work, purpose and what I want the next part of my life to look like.

But this isn't really about comparing our lives.

It's about realizing that our mothers were still becoming too.

At 46, my mother had no idea that three years later she would become a grandmother or that five years later she would become a mother-in-law. Those versions of herself were still ahead of her.

And maybe there are versions of us we haven't met yet either.

Whether your mother is still here or you're a motherless daughter like me, this episode is an invitation to think about the woman your mother was at the age you are now—and what may still be waiting for you beyond the life you can see today.

We’re still living forward.

🎧 I Thought I’d Be Grown by Now
A New Perspective on Age, Motherhood and What’s Still Possible

The Motherless Mother Podcast
For the things we feel but never name.

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I knew my mother very well. But after losing her, I’ve found myself wondering about all the versions of her I never got to meet.

The tomboy-ish little girl who was mischievous but afraid of getting spanked. The young woman who became Miss Nassau Beach Hotel. The sister who went dancing with my Auntie Wasi and gave men fake names—Linda Pinder and Sandra Fernander—and then switched places when those men called the house.

I knew Mommy. But who was Lillian before she was my mother?

In this episode of The Motherless Mother, I explore a part of mother loss and grief we don’t always talk about: the questions that come after our mothers are gone. As we grow older, become mothers ourselves and experience more of life, we can become curious about our mothers not only as “Mommy,” but as the women they were before us.

For motherless daughters and women mothering without their mothers, those questions can feel bittersweet. But sometimes pieces of our mothers’ stories are still here—in siblings, relatives, photographs and the memories of people who loved them too.

Who was your mother before she was your mother?

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The Motherless Mother — for the things we feel but never name.

My mother was usually my first call of the morning and my last call at night.

Sometimes I needed advice. Sometimes I had news. But most of the time, I called her about absolutely nothing.

Nearly six years after losing her, there are still moments when something happens and my first thought is: I need to call Mummy.

In this episode, I’m talking about the ordinary phone calls I miss most, the difference between having people who love and support you and still wanting your mother, and the strange reality that life keeps giving us new questions long after the person we want to ask is gone.

I also share what receiving some very good news this week made me want to do almost immediately—and how being the person my own children call has made me see those ordinary “Mummy!” moments differently.

In this episode:

• Why sometimes I don’t want an answer—I want her answer
• The ordinary calls I never knew I would miss
• Why relationships aren’t interchangeable
• The limits of memory when life keeps creating new questions
• The privilege hidden inside being someone’s ordinary phone call

If this episode made you think of another motherless mother, please share it with her.

💌 Join me between episodes at TheMotherlessMother.com
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Follow or subscribe wherever you listen, and if these conversations have meant something to you, consider leaving a rating or review to help another woman find the show.

You are still her daughter.

Humanize 257 words

Before I became a mother, I had ideas about the kind of mother I would be—and the kind of woman I would remain.

Then I actually became one.

Motherhood didn't just add children to my life. It changed my priorities, my ambitions, and even my definition of success.

And somewhere along the way, I started wondering about something women hear all the time:

Don't lose yourself in motherhood.

But what if I didn't lose myself?

What if motherhood simply introduced me to a version of myself I couldn't have known before?

In this episode, I'm reflecting on the mother I imagined, the woman I've actually become, and why I'm learning that a changed dream isn't necessarily a smaller one.

Because I may not be the mother I thought I'd be.

But I think I like her.

The Motherless Mother Podcast — For the things we feel but never name.

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One day, our children will tell stories about us.

What will they remember?

Losing my mother changed the way I think about memories. I don’t remember whether she got motherhood right every time. I remember her—her smile, her laugh, the scents she wore, the meals she made, the softness of her skin, and the way she showed up.

And lately, I’ve been wondering what that means for the memories my own children are creating of me.

After weeks of traveling together—from watching my son compete for The Bahamas to exploring London and Paris—I’ve been especially aware that we are making their memories right now.

But we don’t get to choose which moments become the memories.

Maybe they’ll remember the big trips and milestones. Or maybe they’ll remember that we laughed together. That we apologized when we got it wrong. That home felt safe. That they never had to earn our love.

In this episode of The Motherless Mother Podcast, we’re talking about motherhood, memory, the pressure to get it right, and the legacy we’re creating in the ordinary moments.

Because perhaps the goal isn’t to raise children who remember a perfect mother.

It’s to raise children who never have to question whether they were deeply loved.

💌 This week’s question to carry: How does it feel to be loved by me?

If this episode resonates, share it with another mother, follow or subscribe, and consider leaving a rating or review.

Join the Motherless Mother letters at TheMotherlessMother.com or email hello@themotherlessmother.com.

Next time: The Mother I Thought I’d Be.

There are moments when the joy is so big — and right alongside it comes the ache.

I wish my mother could see this.

As I prepare to travel to Trinidad to watch my son represent The Bahamas as part of the national swim team, I've found myself thinking about the person I most wish could be in the stands with me: my mother.

But one of the things I've learned about grief after losing my mother is that it doesn't only show up in the big moments.

It's there in the funny things our children say. The ordinary Tuesdays. The milestones, struggles and pieces of life we still instinctively want to turn around and share with the woman who knew us first.

In this episode of The Motherless Mother Podcast, I'm reflecting on what it means to move through motherhood without your own mother — to miss not only the person, but the witness to the life you're now living.

We talk about the pieces of our mothers we carry into our own motherhood, the way their absence can find us even in joyful moments, and what it means to hold grief, gratitude and faith at the same time.

Because we can trust God and still miss our mothers. We can be deeply grateful for the lives we're living and still wish they were here to see what happened next.

In this episode:

• Missing your mother in life's biggest and smallest moments
• Motherhood after losing your mother
• The instinct to still want to tell her everything
• Carrying your mother's influence into your own motherhood
• Holding joy and grief at the same time
• Finding hope and faith in the midst of grief

If this episode brings to mind something you wish your mother could see, I'd love to hear about it. Email me at hello@themotherlessmother.com.

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If this conversation resonated with you, share it with another motherless mother, leave a rating or review, and follow The Motherless Mother Podcast so a new episode finds you every Tuesday.

Next week: What Kind of Mother Will They Remember?

When my mother died during the pandemic, the people who loved me wanted to help.

They couldn't stop by.

They couldn't bring a meal.

They couldn't sit beside me.

So they called.

And because they could only call, their words were all they had.

Over the years, I've realized there were things I wish people had understood—not just about grief, but about loving someone who's living through it.

In this episode, I share seven reflections on what helped, what didn't, and what I've learned in the six years since losing my mother while raising my own children.

If you're a motherless mother, I hope you'll feel seen.

If you love a motherless mother—whether she's your wife, daughter, friend, coworker, or someone else dear to you—I hope this episode helps you love her with greater confidence and compassion.

Because the goal isn't to have all the answers.

It's simply to let her know she doesn't have to carry it alone.

If this episode resonates with you, I'd be so grateful if you'd share it with someone who needs it, follow the podcast, and leave a review. It helps more motherless mothers—and the people who love them—find these conversations.

I'd love to hear your story.

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