This past Sunday was Mother’s Day. While I feel blessed to be a mother and honored to nurture and raise my three children alongside my husband, I felt a familiar heaviness—the ache of missing my own mother. Yet, as I sat with that feeling, I began to realize something profound. Before and since my mother’s passing, I have been surrounded by a network of elder women—women who may not be biologically related, but who have become trusted Aunties through relationship.
These elder women are like the Naomis in my life, guiding me, praying for me, and sometimes even chastising me in love. Like Ruth, I have learned to lean into their wisdom, to glean from their experience, and to allow their nurturing spirits to fill a void that grief left behind.
I think of my Aunt Cynthia, who saw my mother as her spiritual mother. Growing up, she was about 20 years younger than my mother but was already raising two children of her own. Her eldest daughter became my first best friend outside of my family, and Aunt Cynthia was the one who did my hair from age four until I received my first kiddie perm.
I remember Aunt Vera and Aunt Mary, two sisters who sang in my church’s choir. They favored my kin on my father’s side, and after choir rehearsals, they would drive me home from Manhattan to Brooklyn. Our car rides were filled with deep conversations about life, faith, and everything in between.
I also think of Auntie Dee, who now goes by Abigail. After the untimely loss of her husband, “Mr. Wonderful,” Auntie Abigail continued to nurture those around her. She was a mother to many, providing wisdom, hugs, and a listening ear filled with godly advice.
Then there is Mrs. Janice, a force of nature who became a mentor to me. As a teenager, I served as her assistant on the Tenant Association’s executive team. She taught me about business, professionalism, and resilience. When my mother passed away, it was Mrs. Janice who drove me to the hospital, stood by me, and helped me navigate those first moments of grief.
When I moved to Houston, I found another circle of elder women who have become like family. Women who either never had children of their own or adopted “strays” like me and made them family.
There is Auntie Sister Donna, who, when I began fostering my boys, would take them into the audio booth so I could rehearse without them constantly underfoot. Years later, when I had surgery, she stayed with me overnight to make sure I was okay while my husband watched our children. She has attended every major event in my children’s lives, not just as a guest but as family.
Then there are Min. Cheryl and Min. Dorothy, who never fail to call when they haven’t seen me in a while, checking to make sure I’m okay. And Aunt Debra, who spiritually adopted my newest bestie and her husband—and by extension, me.
My Auntie Sister Sonya has been more than a caregiver to my youngest two children. As their daycare, after-school, and children’s ministry teacher, she has taught them about the Lord, prayer, and praise.
And now, there is Mrs. Paz, my lady pastor’s mother, who has become my daughter’s source of grandmotherly affection each day at drop-off and pick-up.
Like Naomi guided Ruth, these elder women have guided me. They have taught me that even in the absence of my mother, I am not without mothers. I am surrounded by a village of women who see me, who love me, who pour into me and my children.
Scripture Takeaway:
Ruth 1:16-17 NLT: “But Ruth replied, ‘Don’t ask me to leave you and turn back. Wherever you go, I will go; wherever you live, I will live. Your people will be my people, and your God will be my God.’”
Proverbs 27:17 NLT: “As iron sharpens iron, so a friend sharpens a friend.”
© 2025, Lela Fagan. All rights reserved.
