05/07/2026
If you’d told me years ago that one day I’d be standing shoulder to shoulder with my mother, both of us dressed up, both of us glowing, celebrating family, I would have smiled and said “I hope so.”
Today, I don’t have to hope. I have the picture.
I remember being much younger, watching her get ready for events, tying her wrapper, adjusting her gele in the mirror, always looking like she was about to walk into a room and own it. I used to think, “I want to stand next to her like that one day. Not behind her. Beside her.”
Sunday came, and it happened.
We stood together, matching colors, matching smiles, decades of history between us, and for a second, time folded in on itself. I saw the little girl who used to hold her hand crossing the road. I saw the woman I’ve become, shaped by every sacrifice she never spoke of out loud.
My mother didn’t teach me success in a classroom. She taught it in kitchens, in prayers whispered over my exams, in the way she stretched little to make it look like plenty, in the way she never let me see her tired even when she was.
Every certificate I’ve earned, every job I’ve held, every “well done” I’ve received, she was the first foundation under all of it.
So today isn’t about career updates or milestones. It’s about roots. It’s about the people who held the ladder before we ever knew we’d need to climb.
If you’re lucky enough to still have your mother close, hold her. Stand beside her. Take the picture.
Happy Sunday. 💛
SundayReflection
