If you’re local, swing by for a quick coffee. If you’re far away, schedule a "no-reason" FaceTime. The best gift is often just your time without a ticking clock. Small Acts of Service:
I began inviting her to the mundane parts of my life. I called her while grocery shopping and asked her opinion on avocados. I brought over laundry to fold at her kitchen table while she made lumpia. I asked her to teach me a song on her old, out-of-tune piano—a song she hadn’t played since her own mother died.
As I reflect on the past month, I am reminded of the transformative power of love and devotion. It all started with a simple yet profound decision: to shower my mother with love and affection for 30 days straight. I wanted to see how this small act of kindness could impact our relationship and her overall well-being. What I didn't expect was the profound impact it would have on me.
So if you take nothing else from this, take this: Go sit with your mother. Not to fix her. Not to thank her. Just to sit. After a month of showering my mother with love ...
A month of celebration is a beautiful start, but it’s the consistent, quiet moments of gratitude that build the strongest bonds. Let’s make sure she feels cherished in June, October, and every month in between.
After a month of showering my mother with love, the most radical act wasn’t the hugs or the “I love you” texts. It was the shared silence. It was sitting next to her while she napped in her recliner, reading my own book, not leaving.
A hand on the shoulder. A pat on the knee while watching TV. Non-emergency touch. It tells the nervous system: You are not alone. If you’re local, swing by for a quick coffee
For an aging parent, the absence of affection isn’t just sad—it’s physiologically damaging. Studies from UCLA show that perceived loneliness increases cortisol (stress hormone) by 25% in older adults, leading to inflammation, hypertension, and cognitive decline.
I pulled the car over. I turned off the engine. In the sudden quiet, she finally looked at me. Her eyes were wet, but her voice was iron.
After a month of showering my mother with love, I stopped believing in the “quality time” myth. You know the one—that you need a vacation or a fancy dinner to reconnect. That’s a lie invented by exhausted people. What my mother needed was quantity time . The dull, repetitive, boring minutes of parallel existence. Folding laundry. Watching bad reality TV. Complaining about the price of eggs. Small Acts of Service: I began inviting her
If you are currently drowning in the act of loving a parent, put down the guilt. You are allowed to be a human, not a hero. The greatest gift you can give your mother isn't your exhaustion—it's your presence. And you can't be present if you're passed out on the floor.
After a month of showering my mother with love, I sat down and wrote her a letter. In it, I said: “You don’t have to earn my attention. You never did. I’m sorry I made you perform for it.”
I thought that if I wasn't exhausted, I wasn't trying hard enough. I thought that saying "no" to her was saying "no" to gratitude. But after a month of showering my mother with love, I had forgotten to save any for myself.