My best friend’s mom died in January. I didn’t know what to say. So I didn’t say anything. I regret that every year. Here’s what to say instead.
This is a Letter to Whoever is Reading it.
If you lost your mom — I’m sorry.
I’m sorry Mother’s Day is coming and the whole internet is going to get loud with cards and brunches and commercials and well-meaning people asking you what you’re doing to celebrate. I’m sorry the grocery store has set up that display right by the entrance. I’m sorry for the Facebook memories that are about to show up without warning. I’m sorry for all of it.
If someone you love lost their mom — I’m writing this for you too.
Because most of us don’t know what to say. And so we don’t say anything. And we tell ourselves “I don’t want to remind her” or “I don’t want to make it worse.”
I was that person once. I’m going to tell you what I learned too late.
What Happened With Mia?
My best friend Mia lost her mom in January.
It was sudden. A heart thing nobody saw coming. Her mom was 58. They had plans the following weekend. One Tuesday she was fine, that Friday she wasn’t, and by Sunday Mia was standing in her childhood kitchen wondering why the coffee maker was still set for two.
I went to the funeral. I brought the casserole. I hugged her. I said all the things — “I’m so sorry,” “let me know if you need anything,” “I’m here.” I meant every one of them.
Then Mother’s Day came. Four months later.
And I panicked.
I sat with my phone in my hand for two full hours that Sunday morning. I typed “thinking of you today” and deleted it. I typed “this must be hard” and deleted it. I typed “your mom loved you so much” and deleted it. Everything I wrote felt too small or too much or too something. I convinced myself she’d want to be left alone. I convinced myself anything I said would just remind her.
So I said nothing.
I found out a year later, over a glass of wine, that she’d spent that entire Sunday sitting by her phone waiting for one person — any person — to text her something. Her other friends had. Her family had. I hadn’t. Because I, her best friend, had decided silence was kinder. It wasn’t. It never is.
That’s the regret I carry every year on the second Sunday of May.
So Here is What to Say. In Case You’re Sitting There Like I Was.
You don’t have to be a poet. You don’t have to be eloquent. You don’t have to make it better — you can’t, and that’s not the job.
The job is to say: I’m thinking of you today, and I haven’t forgotten her.
Here are the sentences that work. Steal any of them:
“Thinking of you today. I know Mother’s Day is probably hard. I’m holding your mom in my thoughts, and you in my heart.”
“I wanted you to know I’m thinking of [her mom’s name] today. I remember the way she laughed at nothing. Sending you so much love.”
“I know today is a lot. I’m here. I don’t need you to respond. I just didn’t want you to feel alone.”
The secret: say her mom’s name. Actually say it. Use the mom’s actual name in the message. That’s the sentence that will break her in the best possible way — proof that someone else still remembers the person she’s missing, that she’s not the only one carrying her forward.
And don’t say “Let me know if you need anything.” She won’t. Grief doesn’t have the bandwidth to delegate. Instead say: “I’m bringing you coffee on Tuesday at 10. You don’t have to be dressed. You don’t have to talk. I just want to sit with you.” Specific is what helps.
A Short List of Things Not to Say
“She’s in a better place.” — You don’t know that, and the grieving person doesn’t want to hear it. The place they wanted her in was here.
“Time heals all wounds.” — It doesn’t. It just teaches you how to carry them.
“Everything happens for a reason.” — Do not. Under no circumstances. Walk away from this sentence.
“Let me know if you need anything.” — Replace this with a specific offer. Always.
And the worst one: silence. Silence because you don’t know what to say. Silence because you don’t want to remind her. Silence because you’re not sure it’s your place. It’s your place. Send the message. Send a short one, an imperfect one, a clumsy one — just don’t send nothing.
One More Thing Before You Close This Tab
If you’re reading this on the Saturday before Mother’s Day, and you know someone who lost their mom this year — send it now. Don’t wait for Sunday morning. Don’t wait to figure out the “perfect” thing. A clumsy message today beats a perfect message never.
If you’re more comfortable sending a card than a text, there’s a quiet library of thinking-of-you and sympathy cards that you can send in under a minute. Some things are easier to say when the card does half the work. That’s fine. Whatever gets the message there.
And if you lost your mom — I hope someone sends you something tomorrow. I hope you get a text from someone who still remembers her. I hope you get a card in the mail with her name written on it. And if nobody does, I’m sorry. You deserved for them to know better. I’m writing this so maybe next year, more of them will.
Questions People Are Afraid to Ask
What do you say to someone who lost their mom on Mother’s Day?
Say her mom’s actual name. “Thinking of [name] today” is worth more than any Hallmark sentiment. Keep it short, keep it honest, and don’t pretend you know what they’re feeling. Just let them know you haven’t forgotten.
Should I reach out on Mother’s Day if I’m not close to the person?
Yes. If the thought crossed your mind, send it. A short, simple “thinking of you today” from someone unexpected can hit harder than five messages from close friends who all went silent because they assumed someone else had it covered.
What if I don’t know the right words?
You don’t need the right words. You need any words. “I don’t know what to say today, but I’m thinking of you” is a complete, valid, beautiful message. The attempt matters more than the eloquence.
Is it okay to send a card instead of reaching out in person?
It’s more than okay — for some people, a card is easier to receive than a face-to-face conversation. They can open it when they’re ready. Read it four times if they need to. Put it in a drawer. A card respects their pace. Texts and calls don’t always.
What if I want to remember to reach out next year too?
You probably won’t, honestly. Grief anniversaries disappear from our calendars fast because we weren’t the ones grieving. The 123Greetings app lets you quietly set a reminder for someone’s anniversary, their mom’s birthday, or Mother’s Day — with 30,000+ cards across every occasion. PRO is ad-free for you and the person receiving it, so nothing breaks the message. It loads fast. It sends in seconds. It helps you show up on the days that matter to them. That’s the whole point.
More Mother’s Day Messages & Cards
→ Mother’s Day messages for mom
→ What to say to someone grieving
→ Heartfelt messages for hard days
A clumsy message today beats a perfect message never.
Say her mom’s name.
That’s the whole thing.