Rooted in Love: A Mother’s Day Reflection

A Mother's Day Letter from April

When I think about my mom, the first word that comes to mind is rooted.
Rooted in faith.
Rooted in love.
Rooted in the steady presence that has shaped so much of who I am today.

Her life has always been grounded in her relationship with Jesus. You see it in the way she shows up for people, in the way she gives, and in the way she carries herself with humility and grace.

She is one of the most generous people you will ever meet, but you won’t always see it. She gives quietly, without the need for recognition or fanfare. Whether it’s helping someone through a hard season or simply knowing when someone needs a little extra encouragement, she has a way of showing up at just the right time — not for attention, but because that’s who she is.

She has always had a gift for making people feel remembered and valued. Birthdays and anniversaries are never missed. Cards are never generic and always mailed. Each one is thoughtfully chosen, reflecting how much she truly knows and cares about the person receiving it. It’s one of those small things that has always felt big.

Growing up, she made our house a home in every sense of the word — even in the middle of the chaos. Somehow, between busy travel soccer schedules, making sure schoolwork was done and we were passing, and working full-time, she still kept everything running with intention. Our home was not only lived in — it was cared for and meticulously kept. Meals were shared around the table at 5:00 pm, decorations changed with the seasons, and there was a sense of pride and peace in the way she maintained it all. Even in the busiest seasons, she created a space that felt warm, steady, and grounded—and looking back, that balance of hustle and heart is something I now understand was anything but simple.

She has also been both a tough critic and my biggest cheerleader — never settling for less than what she knows we are capable of, while also standing behind us with unwavering belief. She wants nothing more than for her daughters and her grandchildren to step fully into all that God has planned for them. And she reminds us of that — sometimes gently, sometimes directly — but always with love.

And now, I get to see those same roots growing into the next generation in my children.

Jackson says she makes him feel loved in a way that’s hard to fully put into words. As he’s growing into his own, navigating what it means to become an adult, the texts and cards she sends still reach him in that same steady way. He once said they make him feel “loved like a little boy” — and what he means is this: when life starts to press in, and expectations grow, having someone who reminds you how wonderful you are, how proud they are of you, and what a beautiful soul you are…that kind of love grounds you. It brings you back to who you are at your core. And it makes him feel incredibly special.

Ryann’s relationship with her grandma is what you would call ride-or-die. There’s a bond there that is both deep and joyful, rooted in consistency and care. One of the things Ryann says she loves most is that her grandma is always thinking about her—she doesn’t have to ask. She feels it in the calls, the messages, and the way her grandma already knows when to check in. She never misses a big moment, and even more importantly, she shows up in all the in-between moments too. That kind of presence — being remembered, prioritized, and supported without question — means the world to her.

Every year, without fail, Ryann asks for her grandma’s famous spaghetti for her birthday—because she says it’s made with love and tastes different. They share a love for giving back, for supporting others, and for pouring into nonprofit work and making a difference where it matters. But they also share a love for the simple, beautiful things — finding joy in the little moments that sparkle and make life feel full.

What I see now is something even bigger than just moments — it’s a legacy.

The same roots that grounded my childhood are now grounding theirs.
The same love that shaped me is shaping them.
The same faith, generosity, and intentional care continue to grow — branch by branch, season by season.

It’s generational.
It’s steady.
It’s alive.

This Mother’s Day, I’m especially grateful — not just for what she has given me, but for what continues to grow because of her. A love that is unconditional. A presence that is constant. A legacy that continues to take root, to bloom, and to flourish in the lives of my children.