Photo by WOKANDAPIX

When I sent out my May monthly newsletter, I asked my subscribers to share stories of their mother or women who were like a mother to them. I received this beautiful story from Lisa Sanetra, who lives in New York City and always wanted to write for the New York Times. However, she has learned to derive satisfaction from writing for her church newspaper and contributes articles to a local newspaper from time to time…

There are people who enter your life quietly and stay forever — not because circumstance demands it, but because love does. Aunt Sue is one of those people.

When I lost my mother at thirty-nine, the world tilted in a way I hadn’t expected. Grief has a way of making even familiar things feel foreign. But Aunt Sue was there — steady as she had always been, steady as I needed her to be. She didn’t try to fill a void that could never truly be filled. She simply stood beside it with me, patient and present.

She has always had a quiet kind of wisdom — the sort that doesn’t announce itself. It lives in the way she listens, really listens, without rushing toward answers. It’s in the gentle questions she asks that somehow help me find my own way through. Over the years, she has been the voice I call when life feels uncertain, the presence I seek when I need to feel grounded.

Now, at fifty-three, I look back and see how much of who I am was shaped in her company. Her steadiness taught me that strength doesn’t have to be loud. Her love taught me that family is not only who you are born to, but who chooses to show up for you — again and again, in all the ordinary and extraordinary moments of a life.

Aunt Sue never tried to be my mother.  She was something all her own — and that has been more than enough. It has been everything.

Thank you, Lisa, for sharing this wonderful tribute!

If you’re interested in receiving my newsletter, full of book news, recipes, and giveaways, sign up here: Newsletter.