IMAGE IS EVERYTHING

Every May, we circle one Sunday on the calendar, buy the flowers, make the brunch reservations, and post sentimental captions about the women who raised us. But long before Mother’s Day became a Hallmark staple and a florist’s jackpot, it began as something deeper. It was a call for recognition. A movement. A grief-soaked prayer turned national holiday.

And here in Atlanta—a city with its own legacy of resilience and matriarchal strength—that original spirit still pulses, if you know where to look.

The story begins with Anna Jarvis, a daughter mourning the loss of her mother, Ann Reeves Jarvis. Her mother had been a community activist and caregiver, tending to wounded soldiers during the Civil War and organizing “Mother’s Day Work Clubs” to improve sanitation and public health. After Ann's death in 1905, Anna vowed to honor her mother’s compassion by creating a day dedicated to all mothers’ sacrifices—both visible and unseen.

It wasn’t about chocolate boxes or Instagram posts. It was about reverence.

Anna’s efforts led to the first official observance of Mother's Day in 1908. By 1914, President Woodrow Wilson signed it into law as a national holiday. Ironically, the same woman who fought for the day’s recognition would later spend her life trying to undo what it had become—a commercial free-for-all, hijacked by greeting cards and retailers.

She once said, “A printed card means nothing except that you are too lazy to write to the woman who has done more for you than anyone in the world.” Strong words—but they echo a certain truth.

In Atlanta, the spirit of women like Ann Jarvis lives on through the city’s own maternal figures. From Coretta Scott King to local neighborhood matriarchs whose wisdom shaped generations, motherhood here has always meant more than biology—it has meant leadership, resistance, and protection.

You’ll find their stories in quiet places: the Atlanta History Center, where Black women’s roles in shaping the South are finally being archived and honored; Oakland Cemetery, where memorials whisper the names of mothers long gone but not forgotten; or the steps of the Martin Luther King Jr. National Historical Park, where mothers once marched for the future of their children.

If you're looking to honor your mother’s legacy this year—or the legacy of any mother figure in your life—maybe skip the sales rack and take her story seriously.

If you want to honor the day in a way that’s meaningful, personal, and rooted in connection rather than consumerism, Atlanta offers more than enough opportunities:

• Write Her a Letter: Whether your mother is living or has passed on, take a moment to write her a heartfelt note. Not a text. Not a card. A real letter. Say the things you often leave unspoken. Read it to her. Read it to yourself. Or leave it at her favorite place in the city.
   
• Visit the Atlanta History Center: Spend an afternoon exploring stories of the city’s families and the women who held them together. Learn about their struggles, joys, and triumphs. Let their legacies enrich your own family’s narrative.
   
• Stroll Through Oakland Cemetery: Not just a resting place, this historic site is a celebration of lives lived. Leave a flower. Reflect in silence. Sometimes, peace comes in the stillness.
   
• Support a Mother in Your Community: Mother’s Day isn’t just for your own mom. There are single mothers working double shifts, foster moms, grandmothers raising children, and women who have lost children. A small act of kindness—whether it’s a home-cooked meal or a heartfelt message—can mean everything.
   
• Attend a Sunday Church Service: Many Atlanta churches hold Mother’s Day tributes that go far beyond surface-level celebration. It's an emotional, often spiritual experience that reconnects you with the deeper meaning of the day.
   

Mother’s Day should be personal. Not performative. And while brunch is great—and flowers are lovely—what if we reclaimed the holiday in a way that honored the love, sacrifice, and legacy behind it?

In a city like Atlanta, where history and heart intersect daily, it’s not hard to do.

So this Mother’s Day, whether you're holding her hand or holding her memory, consider going beyond the brunch. Ask her about her story. Listen. Reflect. Remember.

Because the greatest gift we can give our mothers—past or present—is acknowledgment. Not just for what they did, but for who they were.

Warm regards,

Royce

Publisher